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THE   FIFTEEN 


U" 


DECISIVE 


BATTLES  OF  THE  WORLD 


MAEATHOJiT  TO  WATERLOO 

BY    E.    S.    CREASY 

PUOFESSOR  OF    ANCIENT    AND   MODERN    HISTORY   IN    UNIVERSITY    COLLEGE,    LONDON 
LATE   FELLOW   IN   KINQ's  COLLEGE,  CAMBRIDGE 


Tiiose  few  battles  of  which  a  conrrary  event  would  have  essentially  varied  the 
drama  of  the  world  in  all  its  subsequent  scenes.— Hallam 


New  York 
S.  W.   GREEN'S  SON,  PUBLISHER 

74  AND  76  Beekman  Street 

1883  ,  ,      : 

/^  .r 


Printed  and   Bound  at  the  Establishments  of  the  Publisher, 

S.  W.  GREEN'S   SON, 

74  and   76  Beekman  and   13  and   15  Vandewater  Streets, 

New  York  City. 


PREFACE. 


It  is  an  honorable  characteristic  of  the  spirit  of  this  age,  that 
proj  sets  of  violence  and  warfare  are  regarded  among  civilized  states 
with  gradually  increasing  aversion.  The  Universal  Peace  Society 
certainly  does  not,  and  probably  never  will,  enroll  the  majority  of 
statesmen  among  its  members.  But  even  those  who  look  upon 
the  appeal  of  battle  as  occasionally  unavoidable  in  international 
controversies,  concur  in  thinking  it  a  deplorable  necessity,  only 
to  be  resorted  to  when  all  peaceful  modes  of  arrangement  have 
been  vainly  tried,  and  when  the  law  of  self-defense  justifies  a  state, 
like  an  individual,  in  using  force  to  protect  itself  from  imminent 
and  serious  injury.  For  a  writer,  therefore,  of  the  present  day 
to  choose  battles  for  his  favorite  topic,  merely  because  they  were 
battles  ;  merely  because  so  many  myriads  of  troops  were  arrayed 
in  them,  and  so  many  hundreds  of  thousands  of  human  beings 
stabbed,  hewed,  or  shot  each  other  to  death  during  them,  would 
argue  strange  weakness  or  depravity  of  mind.  Yet  it  can  not  be 
denied  that  a  fearful  and  wonderful  interest  is  attached  to  these 
scenes  of  carnage.  There  is  undeniable  greatness  in  the  disci- 
plined  courage,  and  in  the  love  of  honor,  which  makes  the  combat- 
ants confront  agony  and  destruction.  And  the  powers  of  the 
human  intellect  are  rarely  more  strongly  displayed  than  they  are 
in  the  commander  who  regulates,  arrays,  and  wields  at  his  will 
these  masses  of  armed  disputants  ;  who,  cool,  yet  daring  in  the 
midst  of  peril,  reflects  on  all,  and  provides  for  all,  ever  ready  with 
fresh  resources  and  designs,  as  the  vicissitudes  of  the  storm  of 
slaughter  require.  But  these  qualities,  however  high  they  may 
appear,  are  to  be  found  in  the  basest  as  well  as  in  the  noblest  of 
mankind.      Catiline  was  as  brave  a  soldier  as  Leonidas,  and  a 

iii 


iv  PREFACE. 

much  better  officer.  Alva  surpassed  the  Prince  of  Orange  in  the 
field  ;  and  Suwarrow  was  the  military  superior  of  Kosciusko.  To 
adopt  the  emphatic  words  of  Byron, 

'Tl3  the  cause  makes  all, 
Degrades  or  hallows  courage  In  its  fall. 

There  are  some  battles,  also,  which  claim  our  attention,  inde- 
pendently of  the  moral  worth  of  the  combatants,  on  account  of 
their  enduring  importance,  and  by  reason  of  the  practical  influence 
on  our  own  social  and  political  condition,  which  we  can  trace  up 
to  the  results  of  those  engagements.  They  have  for  us  an  abiding 
and  actual  interest,  both  while  we  investigate  the  chain  of  causes 
and  efiects  by  which  they  have  helped  to  make  us  what  we  are, 
and  also  while  we  speculate  on  what  we  probably  should  have 
been,  if  any  one  of  those  battles  had  come  to  a  different  termina- 
tion. Hallam  has  admirably  expressed  this  in  his  remarks  on  the 
victory  gained  by  Charles  Martel,  between  Tours  and  Poictiers, 
over  the  invading  Saracens. 

He  says  of  it  that  "  it  may  justly  be  reckoned  among  those  few 
battles  of  which  a  contrary  event  would  have  essentially  varied 
the  drama  of  the  world  in  all  its  subsequent  scenes  :  with  Mara- 
thon, Arbela,  the  Metaurus,  Chalons,  and  Leipsic."  It  was  the 
perusal  of  this  note  of  Hallam 's  that  first  led  me  to  the  considera- 
tion of  my  present  subject.  I  certainly  differ  from  that  great  his- 
torian as  to  the  comparative  importance  of  some  of  the  battles 
which  he  thus  enumerates,  and  also  of  some  which  he  omits.  It 
is  probable,  indeed,  that  no  two  historical  inquirers  would  entirely 
agree  in  their  lists  of  the  Decisive  Battles  of  the  World.  Different 
minds  will  naturally  vary  in  the  impressions  which  particular 
events  make  on  them,  and  in  the  degree  of  interest  with  which 
they  watch  the  career,  and  reflect  on  the  importance  of  different 
historical  personages.  But  our  concurring  in  our  catalogues  is  of 
little  moment,  provided  we  learn  to  look  on  these  great  historical 
events  in  the  spirit  which  Hallam's  observations  indicate.  Those 
remarks  should  teach  us  to  watch  how  the  interests  of  many 
states  are  often  involved  in  the  collisions  between  a  few  ;  and  how 
the  effect  of  those  collisions  is  not  limited  to  a  single  age,  but 
may  give  an  impulse  which  will  sway  the  fortunes  of  successive 


PREFACE.  V 

generations  of  mankind.  ■  Most  valuable,  also,  is  the  mental  dis- 
cipline which  is  thus  acquired,  and  by  which  we  are  trained  not 
only  to  observe  what  has  been  and  what  is,  but  also  to  ponder  on 
what  might  have  been.* 

We  thus  learn  not  to  judge  of  the  wisdom  of  measures  too  ex- 
clusively by  the  results.  We  learn  to  apply  the  juster  standard 
of  seeing  what  the  circumstances  and  the  probabilities  were  that 
surrounded  a  statesman  or  a  general  at  the  time  when  he  decided 
on  his  plan  ;  we  value  him,  not  by  his  fortune,  but  by  his 
TtpoiapeSii,  to  adopt  the  expressive  word  of  Polybius.t  for  which 
our  language  gives  no  equivalent. 

The  reasons  why  each  of  the  following  fifteen  battles  has  been 
selected  will,  I  trust,  appear  when  it  is  described.  But  it  may  be 
well  to  premise  a  few  remarks  on  the  negative  tests  which  have 
led  me  to  reject  others,  which  at  first  sight  may  appear  equal  in 
magnitude  and  importance  to  the  chosen  fifteen . 

I  need  hardly  remark  that  it  is  not  the  number  of  killed  and 
wounded  in  a  battle  that  determines  ita  general  historical  import- 
ance. J  It  is  not  because  only  a  few  hundreds  fell  in  the  battle  by 
which  Joan  of  Arc  captured  the  Tourelles  and  raised  the  siege  of 
Orleans,  that  the  efiect  of  that  crisis  is  to  be  judged  ;  nor  would  a 
full  belief  in  the  largest  number  which  Eastern  historians  state  to 
have  been  slaughtered  in  any  of  the  numerous  conflicts  between 
•Asiatic  rulers,  make  me  regard  the  engagement  in  which  they  fell 
as  one  of  paramount  importance  to  mankind.  But,  besides  battles 
of  this  kind,  there  are  many  of  great  consequence,  and  attended 
with  circumstances  which  powerfully  excite  our  feelings  and  rivet 
our  attention,  and  yet  which  appear  to  me  of  mere  secondary  rank, 
inasmuch  as  either  their  eff'ects  were  limited  in  area,  or  they  them- 
selves merely  confirmed  some  great  tendency  or  bias  which  an 
earlier  battle  had  originated.  For  example,  the  encounters  be- 
tween the  Greeks  and  Persians,  which  followed  Marathon,  seem 
to  me  not  to  have  been  phenomena  of  primary  impulse.  Greek 
superiority  had  been  already  asserted,  Asiatic  ambition  had  already 
been  checked,  before  Salamis  and  Platrea  confirmed  the  superiority 

'  See  BoUngbroke  "On  the  Study  and  I  se  of  History,"  vol.  11.,  p.  497,  of 
his  collected  notes, 
t  Polyb.,  lib.  Ix.,  sect.  9. 
t  See  Montesquieu,  "  Grandeur  et  Decadence  des  Romalns,"  p.  35. 


Ti  PREFACK 

of  European  free  states  over  Oriental  despotism.  So  ^gospotamos, 
wHich  finally  crushed  the  maritime  power  of  Athens,  seems  to  me 
inferior  in  interest  to  the  defeat  before  Syracuse,  where  Athens 
received  her  first  fatal  check,  and  after  which  she  only  struggled 
to  retard  her  downfall.  1  think  similarly  of  Zama  with  respect  to 
Carthage,  as  compared  with  the  Metaurus  ;  and,  on  the  same 
principle,  the  subsequent  great  battles  of  the  Revolutionary  war 
appear  to  me  inferior  in  their  importance  to  Valmy,  which  first 
determined  the  military  character  and  career  of  the  French  Eevo- 
lution. 

I  am  aware  that  a  little  activity  of  imagination  and  a  slight 
exercise  of  metaphysical  ingenuity  may  amuse  us  by  showing  how 
the  chain  of  circumstances  is  so  linked  together,  that  the  smallest 
skirmish,  or  the  slightest  occurrence  of  any  kind,  that  ever  occur- 
red, may  be  said  to  have  been  essential  in  its  actual  termination 
to  the  whole  order  of  siabsequent  events.  But  when  I  speak  of 
causes  and  effects,  I  speak  of  the  obvious  and  important  agency 
of  one  fact  upon  another,  and  not  of  remote  and  fancifully  infini- 
tesimal influences.  I  am  aware  that,  on  the  other  hand,  the  re- 
proach of  Fatalism  is  justly  incurred  by  those  who,  like  the 
writers  of  a  certain  school  in  a  neighboring  country,  recognize  in 
history  nothing  more  than  a  series  of  necessary  phenomena, 
which  follow  inevitably  one  upon  the  other.  But  when,  in  this 
work,  I  speak  of  probabilities,  I  speak  of  human  probabilities 
only.  When  I  speak  of  cause  and  effect,  I  speak  of  those  general 
laws  only  by  which  we  perceive  the  sequence  of  human  affairs  to 
be  usually  regulated,  and  in  which  we  recognize  emphatically  the 
wisdom  and  power  of  the  supreme  Lawgiver,  the  design  of  the 
Designer. 

MrrBE  CouKT  Chambers,  Temple) 
Ju7ie  26, 1851.  t 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTEE  L 

Page. 
The  Battle  of  Maeathon  .    11 

Explanatory  Remarks  on  some  of  the  Circumstances  of  the 
Battle  of  Marathon 36 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Marathon,  b.c.  490, 
and  the  Defeat  of  the  Athenians  at  Syracuse,  b.c.  413 38 

CHAPTEE  n. 

Defeat  of  the  Athenians  at  Syracuse,  b.c.  413..    40 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Defeat  of  the  Athenians  at 
Syracuse  and  the  Battle  of  Arbela 66 

CHAPTEE  m. 

The  Battle  of  Aebela,  b.c.  331 57 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Arbela  and  the 
Battle  of  the  Metaurus , 76 

CHAPTEE  TV. 

The  Battle  of  ths  Metaurus  b.c.  207 79 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  the  Metaurus,  b.c. 
207,  and  Arminius's  Victory  over  the  Eoman  Legions  under 

Varus,  A.D.  9 101 

vii 


viii  C0N2ENTS. 

CHAPTER  V. 

Page. 
VioToKT  OP  Abminius  oveb  the  Roman  Leoions  under  Vaetts, 

A.D.  9 104 

Axminius 116 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  Arminius's  Victory  over  Varus 

and  the  Battle  of  Chalons 124 

CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Battle  or  Chaxons,  a.d.  451 125 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Chalons,  a.d.  451, 
and  the  Battle  of  Tours,  732 138 

CHAPTER  VII. 

The  Battle  or  Toubs,  a.d.  732 138 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Tours,  a.d.  732,  and 
the  Battle  of  Hastings,  a.d.  1429 . 147 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  Battle  of  Hastings,  a.d.  1066 149 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Hastings,  a.d.  1066, 
and  Joan  of  Arc's  Victory  at  Orleans,  a.d.  1429 ....  178 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Joan  of  Arc's  Victort  over  the  English  at  Orleans,  a.d.  1429  178 
Synopsis  of  Events  between  Joan  of  Arc's  Victory  of  Orleans, 
A.D.  1429,  and  the  Defeat  of  the  Spanish  Armada,  a.d.  1588....  194 

CHAPTER  X. 

The  Defeat  of  the  Spanish  Armada,  a.d.  1588 ' 195 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Defeat  of  the  Spanish  Armada, 
■  A.D.  1588,  and  the  Battle  of  Blenheim,  aj).  1704 215 

CHAPTER  XI. 

The  Battle  op  Blenheim,  a.d.  1704 216 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Blenheim,  a.d.  1704, 
and  the  Battle  of  Pultowa,  a.d.  1709 233 

CHAPTER  XIL 

The  B.\ttle  op  Pultowa,  a.d.  1709 236 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Pultowa,  a.d.  1709, 
and  the  Defeat  of  Burgoyne  at  vSaratoga,  a.d.  1777 247 


CONTENTS.  ix 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Victory  oi"  the  Americans  over  Buegotne  at  Saratoga,  a.d. 
1777 249 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Defeat  of  Burgoyne  at  Saratoga, 
A.D.  1777,  and  the  Battle  of  Valrny  a.d.  1792 267 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

The  Battle  op  VALivrr,  a.d.  1792 267 

Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Valmy,  a.d.  1792,  and 
the  Battle  of  Waterloo,  a.d.  1815 280 

CHAPTER  XV. 
The  Battle  of  Waterloo,  a.d.  1815. 


Fifteen  Decisive  Battles 
Of  the  World. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  BATTLE   OF  MAEATHON. 

Qulbus  actus  uterque 
EuropiB  atque  Aslse  f atis  concurrent  orWs. 

Two  THOUSAND  three  hundred  and  forty  years  ago,  a  council  oi 
Athenian  officers  was  summoned  on  the  slope  of  one  of  the  moun- 
tains that  look  over  the  plain  of  Marathon,  on  the  eastern  coast  of 
Attica.  The  immediate  subject  of  their  meeting  was  to  consider 
whether  they  should  give  battle  to  an  enemy  that  lay  encamped 
on  the  shore  beneath  them;  but  on  the  resuK  of  their  deliberations 
depended,  not  merely  the  fate  of  two  armies,  but  the  whole  future 
progress  of  human  civilization. 

There  were  eleven  members  of  that  council  of  war.  Ten  were 
the  generals  who  were  then  annually  elected  at  Athens,  one  for 
each  of  the  local  tribes  into  which  the  Athenians  were  divided. 
Each  general  led  the  men  of  his  own  tribe,  and  each  was  invested 
with  equal  military  authority.  But  one  of  the  archons  was  also 
associated  with  them  in  the  general  command  of  the  army.  This 
magistrate  was  termed  the  polemarch  or  War-ruler;  he  had  the 
privilege  of  leading  the  right  wing  of  the  armj'  in  battle,  and  his 
vote  in  a  council  of  war  was  equal  to  that  of  any  of  the  generals.  A 
noble  Athenian  named  Callimachus  was  the  War-ruler  of  this  year; 
and  as  such,  stood  listening  to  the  earnest  discussion  of  the  ten 
generals.  They  had,  indeed,  deep  matter  for  anxiety,  though  little 
aware  how  momentous  to  mankind  were  the  votes  they  were  about 
to  give,  or  how  the  generations  to  come  would  read  with  interest 
the  record  of  their  discussions.  They  saw  before  them  the  invad- 
ing forces  of  a  mighty  empire,  which  had  in  the  last  fifty  years 
shattered  and  enslaved  nearly  all  the  kingdoms  and  principalities 
of  the  then  known  world.  Thev  knew  that  all  the  resources  of 
"11 


la  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

their  owa  country  were  comprised  in  the  little  army  intrusted  to 
their  giiidance.  They  saw  before  them  a  chosen  host  of  the  Great 
King,  sent  to  wreak  his  special  wrath  on  that  country,  and  on  the 
other  insolent  little  Greek  community,  which  had  dared  to  aid  his 
rebels  and  burn  the  capital  of  one  of  his  provinces.  That  victo- 
rious host  had  already  fulfilled  half  its  mission  of  vengeance.  Eretria, 
the  confederate  of  Athens  in  the  bold  march  against  Sardis  nine 
years  before,  had  fallen  in  the  last  few  days,  and  the  Athenian 
generals  could  discern  from  the  heights  the  island  of  .ffigilia,  in 
which  the  Persians  had  deposited  their  Eretrian  prisoners,  whom 
they  had  reserved  to  be  led  away  captives  into  Upper  Asia,  there  to 
hear  their  doom  from  the  lips  of  King  Darius  himself.  Moreover, 
the  men  of  Athens  knew  that  in  the  camp  before  them  was  their 
own  banished  tyrant,  who  was  seeking  to  be  reinstated  by  foreign 
cimeters  in  despotic  sway  over  any  remnant  of  his  countrymen 
that  might  sur^ave  the  sack  of  their  town,  and  might  be  left  behind 
as  too  worthless  for  leading  away  into  Median  bondage. 

The  numerical  disparity  between  the  force  which  the  Athenian 
commanders  had  under  them,  and  that  which  they  were  called  on 
to  encounter,  was  hopelessly  apparent  to  some  of  the  council.  The 
historians  who  wrote  nearest  to  the  time  of  the  battle  do  not 
pretend  to  give  any  detailed  statements  of  the  numbers  engaged, 
but  there  are  sufiicient  data  for  our  making  a  general  estimate. 
Every  free  Greek  was  trained  to  military  duty;  and,  from  the  in- 
cessant border  wars  between  the  different  states,  few  Greeks  reached 
the  age  of 'manhood  withoiit  having  seen  some  service.  But  the 
muster-roll  of  free  Athenian  citizens  of  an  age  fit  for  military  duty 
never  exceeded  thirty  thousand,  and  at  this  epoch  probably  did  not 
amount  to  two-thirds  of  that  number.  Moreover,  the  poorer  por- 
tion of  these  were  unprovided  with  the  equipments,  and  untrained 
to  the  operations  of  the  regular  infantry.  Some  detachments  of  the 
best-armed  troops  would  be  required  to  garrison  the  city  itself  and 
man  the  various  fortified  posts  in  the  territory;  so  that  it  is  impos- 
sible to  reckon  the  fully  eqiiipped  force  that  marched  from  Athens 
to  Marathon  when  the  news  of  the  Persian  landing  arrived,  at  high- 
er than  ten  thousand  men.  * 

With  one  exception,  the  other  Greeks  held  back  from  aiding 
them.  Sparta  had  promised  assistance,  but  the  Persians  had  land- 
ed on  the  sixth  day  of  the  moon,  and  a  religious  scruple  delayed 
the  march  of  Spartan  troops  till  the  moon  should  have  reached  its 

•  The  historians,  who  lived  long  after  the  time  of  the  battle,  such  as  Jus- 
tin, Plutarch,  and  otliers,  give  ten  thousand  as  the  number  of  the  Athenian 
army.  Not  much  reliance  could  be  placed  on  their  authority,  if  unsupported 
by  other  evidence ;  but  a  calculation  made  for  the  number  of  the  Athenian 
free  population  remarkably  confirms  It.  For  the  data  of  this,  see  Boeckh's 
"PudUc  Economy  of  Athens,"  vol.  1.,  p.  46.    Some  Mf  roiKot  probably 

served  as  Hoplites  at  Marathon,  but  the  number  of  resident  aliens  at  Athens 
cannot  have  been  large  at  this  period. 


BATTLE  OF  MARATHON.  13 

full.  From  one  quarter  only,  and  that  from  a  most  unexpected 
one,  did  Athens  receive  aid  at  the  moment  of  her  great  peril. 

Some  years  before  this  time  the  little  state  of  Platsea  in  Boeotia, 
being  hard  pressed  by  her  i^owerful  neighbor,  Thebes,  had  asked 
the  protection  of  Athens,  and  had  owed  to  an  Athenian  army  the 
rescue  of  her  independence.  Now  when  it  was  noised  over  Greece 
that  the  Mede  had  come  from  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth  to 
destroy  Athens,  the  brave  Plataeans,  unsolicited,  marched  with 
their  whole  force  to  assist  the  defense,  and  to  share  the  fortunes  of 
their  benefactors.  The  general  levy  of  the  Platseans  only  amount- 
ed to  a  thousand  men;  and  this  little  column,  marching  from  their 
city  along  the  southern  ridge  of  Mount  Cithseron,  and  thence  across 
the  Attic  territory,  joined  the  Athenian  forces  above  Marathon  al- 
most immediately  before  the  battle.  The  re-enforcement  was  num- 
erically small,  but  the  gallant  spirit  of  the  men  who  composed  it 
must  have  made  it  of  ten-fold  value  to  the  Athenians;  and  its  pres- 
ence must  have  gone  far  to  dispel  the  cheerless  feeling  of  being 
deserted  and  friendless,  which  the  delay  of  the  Spartan  succors  was 
calculated  to  create  among  the  Athenian  ranks.* 

This  generous  daring  of  their  weak  but  true-hearted  ally  was 
never  forgotten  at  Athens.  The  Platasans  were  made  the  civil  fel- 
low-countrymen of  the  Athenians,  except  the  right  of  exercising 
certain  political  functions;  and  from  that  time  forth,  in  the  solemn 
sacrifices  at  Athens,  the  public  prayers  were  offered  up  for  a  joint 
blessing  from  Heaven  upon  the  Athenians,  and  the  Platasans  also. 

After  the  junction  of  the  column  from  Plattea,  the  Athenian  com- 
manders must  have  had  under  them  about  eleven  thousand  fully- 
armed  and  disciplined  infantry,  and  jjrobably  a  larger  number  of 
irregular  light-armed  troops;  as,  besides  the  poorer  citizens  who 
went  to  the  field  armed  with  javelins,  cutlasses,  and  targets,  each 
regular  heavy-armed  soldier  was  attended  in  the  camp  by  one  or 
more  slaves,  who  were  armed  like  the  inferior  freemen,  f  Cavalry 
or  archers  the  Athenians  (on  this  occasion)  had  none;  and  the  use 
in  the  field  of  military  engines  was  not  at  that  period  introduced 
into  ancient  warfare. 


•  Mr.  Grote  observes  (vol.  iv.,  p.  464)  that  "this  volimteer  march  of  tlie 
whole  Platasan  force  to  Marathon  Is  one  of  the  most  affecting  Incidents  of  all 
Grecian  history."  In  truth,  the  whole  career  of  Plataea,  and  the  friendship, 
strong,  even  unto  death,  between  her  and  Athens,  form  one  of  the  most  af- 
fecting episodes  In  the  history  of  antiquity.  In  the  Peloponneslan  war  the 
Platseans  again  were  true  to  the  Athenians  against  all  rlslc°.  and  all  calcula- 
tion of  self-Interest ;  and  the  destnictlon  of  Platica  was  the  consequence. 
There  are  few  nobler  passages  In  the  classics  than  the  speech  In  which  the 
PlatiEan  prisoners  of  war,  after  the  memorable  tiege  of  their  city.  Justify 
before  their  Spartan  executioners  their  loval  adherence  to  Athena.  See 
Thucydldes.  lib.  Ill ,  sees,  s^i-co. 

t  At  the  battle  of  Plataea,  eleven  years  after  Marathon,  each  of  the  eight 
thousand  Athenian  regular  Infantry  who  served  them  was  attended  by  a 
llght-anned  slave.— Ilerod.,  lib.  vlll.,  c.  29,  2» 


14  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

Contrasted  with  their  own  scanty  forces,  the  Greek  commanders 
saw  stretched  before  them,  along  the  shores  of  the  winding  bay, 
the  tents  and  shipping  of  the  varied  nations  who  marched  to  do 
the  bidding  of  the  king  of  the  Eastern  workl.  The  difficulty  of 
finding  transports  and  of  securing  provisions  would  form  the  only 
limit  to  the  niimbers  of  a  Persian  army.  Nor  is  there  any  reason 
to  suppose  the  estimate  of  Justin  exaggerated,  who  rates  at  a  hian- 
dred  thousand  the  force  which  on  this  occasion  had  sailed,  under 
the  satraps  Datis  and  Artaphernes,  from  the  Cilician  shores  against 
the  devoted  coasts  of  Euboea  and  Attica.  And  after  largely  deduct- 
ing from  this  total,  so  as  to  allow  for  mere  mariners  and  camp  fol- 
lowers, there  must  still  have  remained  fearful  odds  against  the 
national  levies  of  the  Athenians.  Nor  could  Greek  generals  then 
feel  that  confidence  in  the  superior  quality  of  their  troops,  which 
ever  since  the  battle  of  Marathon  has  animated  Europeans  in  con- 
flicts with  Asiatics;  as,  for  instance,  in  the  after  struggles  between 
Greece  and  Persia,  or  when  the  Roman  legions  encountered  the 
myriads  of  Mithradates  and  Tigranes,  or  as  is  the  case  in  the  In- 
dian campaigns  of  our  own  regiments .  On  the  contrary,  up  to  the 
day  of  Marathon  the  Medes  and  Persians  were  reputed  invincible. 
They  had  more  than  once  met  Greek  troops  in  Asia  Minor,  in 
Cyprus,  in  Egypt,  and  had  invariably  beaten  them.  Nothing  can 
be  stronger  than  the  expressions  used  by  the  early  Greek  writers 
respecting  the  terror  which  the  name  of  the  Medes  inspired,  and 
the  prostration  of  men's  spirits  before  the  apparently  resistless 
career  of  the  Persian  arms.*- >It  is,  therefore,  little  to  be  wondered 
at,  that  five  of  the  ten  Athenian  generals  shrank  from  the  prospect 
of  fighting  a  pitched  battle  against  an  enemy  so  siaperior  in  num- 
bers and  so  lormidable  in  military  renown.  Their  own  position 
on  the  heights  was  strong,  and  oftered  great  advantages  to  a  small 
defending  force  against  assailing  masses.  They  deemed  it  mere 
foolhardiness  to  descend  into  the  plain  to  be  trampled  down  by 
the  Asiatic  horse,  overwhelmed  with  the  archery,  or  cut  to  pieces 
by  the  invincible  veterans  of  Cambyses  and  Cyrus.  Moreover, 
Si^arta,  the  great  war-state  of  Greece,  had  been  applied  to,  and  had 
promised  succor  to  Athens,  though  the  religious  observance  which 
the  Dorians  paid  to  certain  times  and  seasons  had  for  the  present 
delayed  their  march.  Was  it  not  wise,  at  any  rate,  to  wait  till  the 
Spartans  came  up,  and  to  have  the  help  of  the  best  troops  in  Greece, 
before  they  exposed  themselves  to  the  shock  of  the  dreaded  Medes? 

*''ABr]vaioi  Tt^cSrot  dve6xovro  hdOifrd  re  M.r]8iKvv  opioov- 
rei,  xai  rovi  avSpaZ  ravTrjv  idOf^jusrovS-  reooi  ok  7fv  roidt 
'EXXtj6i  Hat  to  ovvojiia  roSy  Mr/doov  q^ono?  ccHovdai. — Hebo- 
DOTUS  lib.  vi.,  c.  112. 

Al  SLyvQDfuai  dedovXoojuEvat  dndvToov  avOpoonoov  rfdav 
ovrcD  TtoXAd  xaiUEydXa  xai  //a^z//a  y svt^  xarad ed ovXoo/nevtf 
?/v  7}  UepCcSv  aox7/. — PLiTO,  Menexenus. 


BATTLE  OF  MARATHON.  15 

Specious  as  these  reasons  might  appear,  the  other  five  generals 
were  for  speedier  and  bolder  operations.  And,  fortunately  for 
Athens  and  for  the  world,  one  of  them  was  a  man,  not  only  of  the 
highest  military  genius,  but  also  of  that  energetic  character,  which 
impresses  its  own  type  and  ideas  upon  spirits  feebler  in  conception. 

MiUiades  was  the  head  of  one  of  the  noblest  houses  at  Athens ;  he 
tanked  the  ^acidae'among  his  ancestry,  and  the  blood  of  Achilles 
flowed  in  the  veins  of  the  hero  of  Maratlion.  One  of  his  immedi- 
ate ancestors  had  acquired  the  dominion  of  the  Thracian  Cher- 
sonese, and  thus  the  family  became  at  the  same  time  Athenian  citi- 
zens and  Thracian  princes.  This  occurred  at  the  time  when  Pisis- 
tratus  was  tyrant  of  Athens.  Two  of  the  relatives  of  Miltiades— 
an  uncle  of'  the  same  name,  and  a  brother  named  Stesagoras— had 
ruled  the  Chersonese  before  Miltiades  became  its  prince.  He  had 
been  brought  up  at  Athens  in  the  house  of  his  father,  Cimon,*  who 
was  renowned  throughout  Greece  for  his  victories  in  the  Olympic 
chariot-races,  and  who  must  have  been  possessed  of  great  wealth. 
The  sons  of  Pisistratus,  who  succeeded  their  father  in  the  tyranny 
at  Athens,  caused  Cimon  to  be  assassinated;!  but  they  treated  the 
young  Miltiades  with  favor  and  kindness,  and  when  his  brother 
Stesagoras  died  in  the  Chersonese,  they  sent  him  out  there  as  lord 
of  the  principality.  This  was  about  twenty-eight  years  before  the 
battle  of  Marathon,  and  it  is  with  his  arrival  in  the  Chersonese 
that  our  first  knowledge  of  the  career  and  character  of  Miltiades 
commences.  We  find,  in  the  first  act  recorded  of  him,  the  proof 
of  the  same  resolute  and  unscrupulous  spirit  that  marked  his 
mature  age.  His  brother's  authority  in  the  principality  had  been 
shaken  by  war  and  revolt ;  Miltiades  determined  to  rule  more 
securely.  On  his  arrival  he  kept  close  within  his  house,  as  if  he 
was  mourning  for  his  brother.  The  principal  men  of  the  Cher- 
sonese, hearing  of  this,  assembled  from  all  the  towns  and  districts, 
and  went  together  to  the  house  of  Miltiades,  on  a  visit  of  condo- 
lence. As  soon  as  he  had  thus  got  them  in  his  power,  he  made 
them  all  prisoners.  He  then  asserted  and  maintained  his  own 
absolute  authority  in  the  peninsula,  taking  into  his  pay  a  body  of 
five  hundred  regular  troops,  and  strengthening  his  interest  by 
marrying  the  daughter  of  the  king  of  the  neighboring  Thracians. 

"When  the  Persian  power  was  extended  to  the  Hellespont  and 
its  neighborhood,  Miltiades,  as  prince  of  the  Chersonese,  submit- 
ted to  King  Darius  ;  and  he  was  one  of  the  numerous  tributary 
rulers  who  led  their  contingents  of  men  to  ser^^e  in  the  Persian 
camp,  in  the  expedition  against  Scythia.  Miltiades  and  the  vassal 
Greeks  of  Asia  Minor  were  left  by  the  Persian  king  in  charge  of 
the  bridge  across  the  Danube,  when  the  invading  army  crossed 
that  river,  and  plunged  into  the  wilds  of  the  country  that  now  is 
Russia,  in  vain  pursuit  of  the  ancestors  of  the  modern  Cossacks. 

*  Herodotus,  lib.  vl.,  c.  103.  t  lb. 


16  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

On  learning  the  reverses  that  Darins  met  with  in  the  Scythian 
■wilderness,  Miltiades  proposed  to  his  companions  that  they  should 
break  the  bridge  down,  and  leave  the  Persian  king  and  his  army 
to  perish  by  famine  and  the  Scythian  arrows.  The  rulers  of  the 
Asiatic  Greek  cities,  whom  Miltiades  addressed,  shrank  from  this 
bold  but  ruthless  stroke  against  the  Persian  power,  and  Darius 
returned  in  safety.  But  it  was  known  what  advice  Miltiades  had 
given,  and  the  vengeance  of  Darius  was  thencefoiih  specially 
directed  against  the  man  who  had  counseled  such  a  deadly  blow 
against  his  empire  and  his  person.  The  occupation  of  the  Persian 
arms  in  other  quarters  left  Miltiades  for  some  years  afte-  this 
in  possession  of  the  Chersonese  ;  but  it  was  precarious  and  inter- 
rupted. He,  however,  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  which 
his  position  gave  him  of  conciliating  the  good-will  of  his  fellow- 
countrymen  at  Athens,  by  conquering  and  placing  under  the 
Athenian  authority  the  islands  of  Lemnos  and  Imbros,  to  which 
Athens  had  ancient  claims,  but  which  she  had  never  previously 
been  able  to  bring  into  complete  subjection.  At  length,  in  494, 
B.  c,  the  complete  suppression  of  the  Ionian  revolt  by  the  Per- 
sians left  their  armies  and  fleets  at  liberty  to  act  against  the 
enemies  of  the  Great  King  to  the  west  of  the  Hellespont.  A 
strong  squadron  of  Phenician  galleys  was  sent  against  the  Cherso- 
nese. Miltiades  knew  that  resistance  was  hopeless;  and  while  the 
Phenicians  were  at  Tenedos,  he  loaded  five  galleys  with  all  the 
treasure  that  he  could  collect,  and  sailed  away  for  Athens.  The 
Phenicians  fell  in  with  him,  and  chased  him  hard  along  the  north 
of  the  Mge&n .  One  of  his  galleys,  on  board  of  which  was  his 
eldest  son,  Metiochus,  was  actually  captured.  But  Miltiades,  with 
the  other  four,  succeeded  in  reaching  the  friendly  coast  of  Imbros 
in  safety.  Thence  he  afterward  proceeded  to  Athens,  and  re- 
sumed his  station  as  a  free  citizen  of  the  Athenian  commonwealth. 
The  Athenians,  at  this  time,  had  recently  expelled  Hippias, 
the  son  of  Pisistratus,  the  last  of  their  tyrants.  They  were  in 
the  full  glow  of  their  newly-recovered  liberty  and  equality  ;  and 
the  constitutional  changes  of  Cleisthenes  had  inflamed  their  re- 
publican zeal  to  the  utmost.  Miltiades  had  enemies  at  Athens  ; 
and  these,  availing  themselves  of  the  state  of  popular  feeling, 
brought  him  to  trial  for  his  life  for  having  been  tyrant  of  the 
Chersonese.  The  charge  did  not  necessary  import  any  acts  of 
cruelty  or  wrong  to  individuals  :  it  was  founded  on  no  specific  law  ; 
but  it  was  based  on  the  horror  with  which  the  Greeks  of  that  age 
regarded  every  man  who  made  himself  arbitrary  master  of  his 
fellow-men,  and  exercised  irresponsible  dominion  over  them. 
The  fact  of  Miltiades  having  so  ruled  in  the  Chersonese  was  un- 
deniable but  the  question  which  the  Athenians  assembled  in 
judgment  must  have  tried,  was  whether  Miltiades,  although 
tyrant  of  the  Chersonese,  deserved  punishment  as  an  Athenian 
citizen .    The  eminent  service  that  he  had  done  the  state   in  con- 


BATTLE  OF  MARATHOK  17 

qnering  Lemnos  and  Imbros  for  it,  pleaded  strongly  in  his  favor. 
The  people  refused  to  convict  him.  He  stood  high  in  pnblic  opin- 
ion. And  when  the  coming  invasion  of  the  Persians  was  known, 
the  people  wisely  elected  him  one  of  their  generals  for  the  year. 

Two  other  men  of  high  eminence  in  history,  though  their  re- 
nown was  achieved  at  a  later  period  than  that  of  Miltiades,  were 
also  among  the  ten  Athenian  generals,  at  Marathon.  One  was 
Themistocles,  the  future  founder  of  the  Athenian  navy,  and  the 
destined  victor  of  SaLimis.  The  other  was  Aristides,  who  after- 
ward led  the  Athenian  troops  at  Plataea,  and  whose  integrity  and 
just  popularity  acquired  for  his  country,  when  the  Persians  had 
finally  been  repulsed,  the  advantageous  pre-eminence  of  being 
acknowledged  by  half  of  the  Greeks  as  their  imperial  leader  and 
protector.  It  is  not  recorded  what  part  either  Themistocles  or 
Aristides  took  in  the  debate  of  the  counsel  of  war  at  Marathon. 
But,  from  the  character  of  Themistocles,  his  boldness,  and  his 
intuitive  genius  for  extemporizing  the  best  measures  in  every 
emergency*  (a  quality  which  the  greatest  of  historians  ascribes  to 
him  beyond  all  his  contemporaries),  we  may  well  believe  that 
the  vote  of  Themistocles  was  for  prompt  and  decisive  action. 
On  the  vote  of  Aristides  it  may  be  more  difficult  to  speculate. 
His  predilection  for  the  Spartans  may  have  made  him  wish  to 
wait  till  they  came  up  ;  but  though  circiimspect,  he  was  neither 
timid  as  a  soldier  nor  as  a  politician,  and  the  bold  advice  of  Mil- 
tiades may  probably  have  found  in  Aristides  a  willing,  most  as- 
suredly it  found  in  him  a  candid,  hearer. 

Miltiades  felt  no  hesitation  as  to  the  course  which  the  Athenian 
army  ought  to  pursue;  and  earnestly  did  he  press  his  opinion  on 
his  brother-generals.  Practically  acquainted  with  the  organization 
of  the  Persian  armies,  Miltiades  felt  convinced  of  the  siaperiority 
of  the  Greek  troops,  if  properly  handled ;  he  saw  with  the  military 
eye  of  a  great  general  the  advantage  which  the  position  of  the  forces 
gave  him  for  a  sudden  attack,  and  as  a  profound  politician  he  felt 
the  perils  of  remaining  inactive,  and  of  giving  treachery  time  to 
ruin  the  Athenian  cause. 

One  officer  in  the  council  of  war  had  not  yet  voted.  This  was 
Callimachus,  the  War-ruler.  The  votes  of  the  generals  were  five 
and  five,  so  that  the  voice  of  Callimachus  would  be  decisive. 

On  that  vote,  in  all  human  probability,  the  destiny  of  all  the 
nations  of  the  world  depended.  Miltiades  turned  to  him,  and  in 
simple  soldierly  eloquence,  the  substance  of  which  we  may  read 
faithfully  repoiied  in  Herodotus,  who  had  conversed  with  the  vet- 


*  See  the  character  of  Themistocles  In  the  I38th  section  of  the  first 
book  of  Thucydldes,  especially  the  iast  sentence.  Kai  to  ^vjiiTCav 
siitEiv  (pvdeooi  nav  dwdj^tei  //fAe'r?/?  6i  fipaxvvijTi  xpart- 
droi  Stj  o^vro's  avrodx^StecZetv  zd.  deovrec  iyivsro. 


18  DECISIVE  BATTES. 

erans  of  Marathon,  the  great  Athenian  thus  adjured  his  country- 
men to  vote  for  giving  battle. 

"It  now  rests  with  you,  Callimachtis,  either  to  enslave  Athens, 
or,  "by  assuring  her  freedom,  to  win  yourself  an  immortality  of 
fame,  such  as  not  even  Hai-modius  and  Aristogeiton  have  acquired; 
for  never,  since  the  Athenians  vs'ere  a  people,  were  they  in  such 
danger  as  they  are  in  at  this  moment.  If  they  bow  the  knee  to 
these  Medes,  they  are  to  be  given  up  to  Hippias,  and  you  know 
■what  they  then  will  have  to  Ruflfer.  But  if  Athens  comes  victo- 
rious out  of  this  contest,  she  has  it  in  her  to  become  the  first  city 
of  Greece.  !Your  vote  is  to  decide  whether  we  are  to  join  battle  or 
not.  If  we  do  not  bring  on  a  battle  presently,  some  factious  in- 
trigue will  disunite  the  Athenians,  and  the  city  will  be  betrayed 
to  the  Medes.  But  if  we  fight,  before  there  is  anything  rotten  in 
the  state  of  Athens,  I  believe  that,  provided  the  gods  will  give  fair 
play  and  no  favor,  we  are  able  to  get  the  best  of  it  in  an  engage- 
ment."* 

The  vote  of  the  brave  War-ruler  was  gained;  the  council  deter- 
mined to  give  battle;  and  such  was  the  ascendency  and  acknowl- 
edged military  eminence  of  Miltiades,  that  his  brother  generals 
one  and  all  gave  up  their  days  of  command  to  him,  and  cheerfully 
acted  under  his  orders.  Fearful,  however,  of  creating  any  jealousy, 
and  of  so  failing  to  obtain  the  vigorous  co-operation  of  all  parts  of 
his  small  army,  Miltiades  waited  till  the  day  when  the  chief  com- 
mand would  have  come  round  to  him  in  regular  rotation  before  he 
led  the  trooi^a  against  the  enemy. 

The  inaction  of  the  Asiatic  commanders  during  this  interval 
appears  stranga  at  first  sight;  but  Hippias  was  with  them,  and 
fhey  and  he  were  aware  of  their  chance  of  a  bloodless  conquest 
through  the  machinations  of  his  partisans  among  the  Athenians. 
The  nature  of  the  ground  also  explains  in  many  points  the  tactics 
of  the  opposite  generals  before  the  battle,  as  well  as  the  operations 
of  the  troops  during  the  engagement. 

The  plain  of  Marathon,  which  is  about  twenty-two  miles  distant 
from  Athens,  lies  along  the  bay  of  the  same  name  on  the  north- 

*  Herodotus,  lib.  vi.,  sec.  109.  Ttie  li6th  section  is  to  my  mmd  clear 
proof  that  Herodotus  liad  personally  conversed  with  Eplzelus,  one  of  the 
veterans  of  Marathon.  The  substance  ot  the  speech  of  Miltiades  would 
naturally  become  known  by  the  report  of  some  of  his  colleagues.  The 
speeches  which  ancient  histoilans  place  in  the  mouths  of  kings  and  generals 
are  generally  inventions  oi  Oieir  own  ;  but  part  of  this  speech  of  Miltiades 
bears  mternal  e\iflence  ol  aulhenticity.  Such  is  the  case  with  the  remark- 
able expression  TJi^  Ss  ivjupa'/ioo/iEv  Ttpiv  ti  Mai  daOpov  'AOtfvaioov 
xerE^£r£poi6i  kyy£VE60ai,  Sscav  rd  ■i6a  ve/hovtoov,  oioi  te 
£ijii£v  7f£pjy£V£'60ai  r^  6v/ii/3oA^.  This  daring  and  almost  irreverent 
assertion  would  never  have  been  coined  by  Herodotus,  but  it  is  precisely 
consonant  with  what  we  know  of  the  character  ol  Miltiades ;  and  it  is  an 
expression  which,  if  used  by  lilm,  would  be  sure  to  be  remembered  and 
repeated  by  his  hearei-s. 


BATTLE  OF  MARATHON  IS 

eastern  coast  of  Attica.  The  plain  is  nearly  in  the  form  of  a  cres- 
cent, and  about  six  miles  in  length.  It  is  about  two  miles  broad 
in  the  center,  where  the  space  between  the  moiintains  and  the  eea 
is  greatest,  but  it  narrows  toward  either  extremity,  the  mountains 
coming  close  down  to  the  water  at  the  horns  of  the  bay.  There  is 
a  valley  trending  inward  from  the  middle  of  the  plain,  and  a  ravine 
comes  down  to  it  to  the  southward.  Elsewhere  it  is  closely  girt 
round  on  the  land  side  by  rugged  limestone  mountains,  which  are 
thickly  studded  with  pines,  olive-trees,  and  cedars,  and  overgrown 
with  the  myrtle,  arbutus,  and  the  other  low  odoriferoiis  shrubs  that 
everywhere  perfume  the  Attic  air.  The  level  of  the  ground  is  now 
varied  by  the  mound  raised  over  those  who  fell  in  the  battle,  but  it 
was  an  unbroken  plain  when  the  Persians  encamped  on  it.  There 
are  marshes  at  each  end,  which  are  dry  in  spring  and  summer,  and 
then  offer  no  obstruction  to  the  horseman,  but  are  commonly 
flooded  with  rain  and  so  rendered  impracticable  for  cavali-y  in  the 
autumn,  the  time  of  year  at  which  the  action  took  place. 

The  Greeks,  lying  encamped  on  the  mountains,  could  watch 
every  movement  of  the  Persians  on  the  plain  below,  while  they 
were  enabled  completely  to  mask  their  own.  Miltiades  also  had 
from  his  position,  the  power  of  giving  battle  whenever  he  pleased, 
or  of  delaying  it  at  this  discretion,  unless  Datis  were  to  attempt 
the  perilous  operation  of  storming  the  heights. 

If  we  turn  to  the  map  of  the  Old  World,  to  test  the  comparative 
territorial  resources  of  the  two  states  whose  armies  were  now 
about  to  come  into  conflict,  the  immense  preponderance  of  the 
material  power  of  the  Persian  king  over  that  of  the  Athenian  re- 
public is  more  striking  than  any  similar  contrast  which  history 
can  supply.  It  has  been  truly  remarked,  that,  in  estimating 
mere  areas,  Attica,  containing  on  its  whole  surface  only  seven 
hundred  square  miles,  shrinks  into  insignificance,  if  compared 
with  many  a  baronial  fief  of  the  Middle  Ages,  or  many  a  colonial 
allotment  of  modern  times.  Its  antagonist,  the  Persian  Empire, 
comprised  the  whole  of  modern  Asiatic  and  much  of  modern  Eu- 
ropean Turkey,  the  modern  kingdom  of  Persia,  and  the  countries 
of  modern  Georgia,  Armenia,  Balkh,  the  Punjaub,  Afghanistan, 
Beloochistan,  Egypt,  and  Tripoli. 

Nor  could  a  European,  in  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  century  be- 
fore our  era,  look  upon  this  huge  accumulation  of  power  beneath 
the  scepter  of  a  single  Asiatic  ruler  with  the  indifi"erence  with 
which  we  now  observe  on  the  map  the  extensive  dominions  of 
modern  Oriental  sovereigns;  for,  as  has  been  already  remarked, 
before  Marathon  was  fought,  the  prestige  of  success  and  of  sup- 
posed superiority  of  race  was  on  the  side  of  the  Asiatic  against 
the  European.  Asia  was  the  original  seat  of  human  societies,  and 
long  before  any  trace  can  be  found  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  rest 
of  the  world  having  emerged  from  the  rudest  barbarism,  we  can 
perceive  that  mighty  and  brilliant  empires  flourished  in  the  Asi- 


20  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

atic  continent.  They  appear  before  us  tlirougli  the  twilight  of 
primeval  history,  dim  and  indistinct,  but  massive  and  majestic, 
like  mountains  in  the  early  dawn. 

Instead,  however,  of  the  infinite  variety  and  restless  change 
which  has  characterized  the  institiitions  and  fortunes  of  Euroi^ean 
states  ever  since  the  commencement  of  the  civilization  of  our  con- 
tinent, a  monotonous  uniformity  pervades  the  histories  of  nearly 
all  Oriental  empires,  from  the  most  ancient  down  to  the  most  re- 
cent times.  They  are  characterized  by  the  rapidity  of  their  early 
conquests,  by  the  immense  extent  of  the  dominions  comprised  in 
them,  by  the  estfiblishment  of  a  satrap  or  pashaw  system  of  gov- 
erning the  provinces,  by  an  invariable  and  speedy  degeneracy  in 
the  princes  of  the  royal  house,  the  efl'eminate  nurslings  of  the 
seraglio  succeeding  to  the  warrior  sovereigns,  reared  in  the  camp, 
and  by  the  internal  anarchy  and  insurrections  which  indicate  and 
accelerate  the  decline  and  fall  of  these  unwieldy  and  ill-organized 
fabrics  of  power.  It  is  also  a  striking  fact  that  the  governments 
of  all  the  great  Asiatic  empires  have  in  all  ages  been  absolute  des- 
potisms. And  Heeren  is  right  in  connecting  this  with  another 
great  fact,  which  is  important  from  its  influence  both  on  the  po- 
litical and  the  social  life  of  Asiatics.  "Among  all  the  considerable 
nations  of  Inner  Asia,  the  paternal  government  of  every  household 
was  corrupted  by  polygamy:  where  that  custom  exists,  a  good  po- 
litical constitution  is  impossible.  Fathers,  being  converted  into 
domestic  despots,  are  ready  to  pay  the  same  abject  obedience  to 
their  sovereign  which  they  exact  from  their  family  and  depen- 
dents in  their  domestic  economy."  We  should  bear  in  mind,  also, 
the  inseparable  connection  between  the  state  religion  and  all  leg- 
islation which  has  always  prevailed  in  the  East,  and  the  constant 
existence  of  a  powerful  sacerdotal  body,  exercising  some  check, 
though  precarious  and  irregular,  over  the  throne  itself,  grasping 
at  all  civil  administration,  claiming  the  supreme  control  of  educa- 
tion, stereotj'ping  the  lines  in  which  literature  and  science  must 
move,  and  limiting  the  extent  to  which  it  shall  be  lawful  for  the 
human  mind  to  prosecute  its  inquiries. 

With  these  general  characteristics  rightly  felt  and  understood, 
it  becomes  a  comparatively  easy  task  to  investigate  and  appreciate 
the  origin,  progress,  and  jjrinciples  of  Oriental  empires  in  gener- 
al, as  well  as  of  the  Persian  monarchy  in  particular.  And  we  are 
thus  better  enabled  to  appreciate  the  repulse  which  Greece  gave 
to  the  arms  of  the  East,  and  to  iudge  of  the  probable  consequences 
to  human  civilization,  if  the  Persians  had  succeeded  in  bring- 
ing Europe  under  their  yoke,  as  they  had  already  subjugated  the 
fairest  portions  of  the  rest  of  the  then  known  world. 

The  Greeks,  from  their  geographical  position,  formed  the  nat- 
ural van-guard  of  European  libertj'  against  Persian  ambition;  and 
they  pre-eminently  displayed  the  salient  points  of  distinctive  na- 
tional character  which  have  rendered  European  civilization  so  fat 


BATTLE  OF  MAHATHOK  21 

superior  to  Asiatic.  The  nations  that  dwelt  in_  ancient  times 
around  and  near  the  northern  shores  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea, 
were  the  first  in  our  continent  to  receive  from  the  East  the  rudi- 
ments of  art  and  literature,  and  the  germs  of  social  and  political 
organizations.  Of  these  nations  the  Greeks,  through  their  vicin- 
ity to  Asia  Minor,  Phenicia,  and  Egypt,  were  among  the  very 
foremost  in  acquiring  the  principles  and  habits  of  civilized  life; 
and  they  also  at  once  imparted  a  new  and  wholly  original  stamp 
on  all  which  they  received.  Thus,  in  their  religion,  they  received 
from  foreign  settlers  the  names  of  all  their  deities  and  many  of 
their  rites,  but  they  discarded  the  loathsome  monstrosities  of  the 
Nile,  the  Orantcs,  and  the  Ganges;  they  nationalized  their  creed; 
and  their  own  poets  created  their  beautiful  mythology.  No  sacer- 
dotal caste  ever  existed  in  Greece.  So,  in  their  governments, 
they  lived  long  under  hereditary  kings,  but  never  endured  the 
permanent  establishment  of  absohite  monarchy.  Their  early 
kings  were  constitutional  rulers,  governing  with  defined  preroga- 
tives.* And  long  before  the  Persian  invasion,  the  kingly  form  of 
government  had  given  way  in  almost  all  the  Greek  states  to  re- 
publican institutions,  presenting  infinite  varieties  of  the  blending 
or  the  alternate  predominance  of  the  oligarchical  and  democratical 
principles.  In  literature  and  science  the  Greek  intellect  followed 
no  beaten  track,  and  acknowledged  no  limitary  rules.  The  Greeks 
thought  their  subjects  boldly  out;  and  the  novelty  of  a  specula- 
tion invested  it  in  their  minds  with  interest,  and  not  Avith  crimi- 
nality. Versatile,  restless,  enterprising,  and  self-confident,  the 
Greeks  presented  the  most  striking  contrast  to  the  habitual  quie- 
tude and  submissiveness  of  the  Orientals;  and,  of  all  the  Greeks, 
the  Athenians  exhibited  these  national  characteristics  in  the 
strongest  degree.  This  spirit  of  activity  and  daring,  joined  to  a 
generous  sympathy  for  the  fate  of  their  fellow-Greeks  in  Asia,  had 
led  them  to  join  in  the  last  Ionian  war;  and  now  mingling  with 
their  abhorrence  of  the  usurping  family  of  their  own  citizens, 
which  for  a  period  had  forcibly  seized  on  and  exercised  despotic 
power  at  Athens,  nerved  them  to  defy  the  wrath  of  King  Darius, 
and  to  refuse  to  receive  back  at  his  bidding  the  tyrant  whom  they 
had  some  years  before  driven  out. 

The  enterprise  and  genius  of  an  Englishman  have  lately  con- 
firmed by  fresh  evidence,  and  invested  with  fresh  interest,  the 
might  of  the  Persian  monarch  who  sent  his  troops  to  combat  at 
Marathon.  Inscriptions  in  a  character  termed  the  Arrow-headed 
or  Cuneiform,  had  long  been  known  to  exist  on  tlie  marble  mon- 
uments at  Perscpolis,  near  the  site  of  the  ancient  Susa,  and  on  the 
faces  of  rocks  in  other  i)laces  formerly  ruled  over  by  the  early 
Persian  kings.     But  for  thousands  of  years  they  had  been  mere 

*  ^Eni  p^roliyspc6i  narptHai  fia6tX£lai,—'V-avcYT>.W:).\.,  aec.  13. 


22  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

unintelligible  enigmas  to  the  curious  but  baffled  beholder  ;  and 
they  were  often  referred  to  as  instances  of  the  folly  of  human 
pride,  which  could  indeed  write  its  own  praises  in  the  solid  rock, 
but  only  for  the  rock  to  outlive  the  language  as  well  as  the  mem- 
ory of  the  vainglorious  inscribers.  The  elder  Niebuhr,  Grotefend, 
and  Lassen,  had  made  some  guesses  at  the  meaninL;  of  the  Cunei- 
form letters;  but  Major  Eawlinson,  of  the  East  India  Company's 
service,  after  years  of  labor,  has  at  last  accomplished  the  glorious 
achievement  of  fully  revealing  the  ali^habet  and  the  grammar  of 
this  long  unknown  tongue.  He  has,  in  particular,  fully  deci- 
phered and  expounded  the  inscription  on  the  sacred  rock  of 
Behistun,  on  the  western  frontiers  of  Media.  These  records  of 
the  Achsemenidse  have  at  length  found  their  interpreter;  and  Da- 
rius himself  speaks  to  us  from  the  consecrated  mountain,  and 
tells  us  the  names  of  the  nations  that  obeyed  him,  the  revolts  that 
be  suppressed,  his  victories,  his  piety,  and  his  glory.  * 

Kings  who  thus  seek  the  admiration  of  posterity  are  little  likely 
to  dim  the  record  of  their  successes  by  the  mention  of  their  occa- 
sional defeats;  and  it  throws  no  suspicion  on  the  narrative  of  the 
Greek  historians  that  we  find  these  inscriptions  silent  respecting 
the  overthrow  of  Datis  and  Artaphernes,  as  well  as  respecting  the 
reverses  which  Darius  sustained  in  person  during  his  Scythian  cam- 
paigns. But  these  indisputable  monuments  of  Persian  fame  col- 
firm,  and  even  increase  the  opinion  with  which  Herodotus  il- 
spires  us  of  the  vast  power  which  Cyrus  founded  and  Cambyses 
increased;  which  Darius  augmented  by  Indian  and  Arabian  con- 
quests, and  seemed  likely,  when  he  directed  his  arms  against 
Europe,  to  make  the  predominant  monarchy  of  the  world. 

With  the  exception  of  the  Chinese  empire,  in  which,  through- 
out all  ages  down  to  the  last  few  years,  one-third  of  the  humar 
race  has  dwelt  almost  unconnected  with  the  other  portions,  all  tb 
great  kingdoms,  which  we  know  to  have  existed  in  ancient  Asia., 
were,  in  Darius's  time,  blended  into  the  Persian.  The  northern 
Indians,  the  Assyrians,  the  Syrians,  the  Babylonians,  theChaldees, 
the  Fhenicians,  the  nations  of  Palestine,  the  Armenians,  the  Bac- 
trians,  the  Lydians,  the  Phrygians,  the  Parthians,  and  the  Medes, 
all  obeyed  the  scepter  of  the  Great  King:  the  Medes  standing  next 
to  the  native  Persians  in  honor,  and  the  empire  being  frequently 
spoken  of  as  that  of  the  Medes  or  as  that  of  the  Medes  and  Per- 
sians. Egypt  and  Cyrene  were  Persian  provinces;  the  Greek  col- 
onists in  Asia  Minor  and  the  islands  of  the  Mgse&n  were  Darius's 
subjects;  and  their  gallant  but  unsuccessful  attempts  to  throw  oft 
the  Persian  yoke  had  only  served  to  rivet  it  more  strongly,  and 
to  increase  the  general  belief  that  the  Greeks  could  not  stand  be- 
fore the  Persians  in  a   field  of  battle.     Darius's  Scythian  war, 


*  See  the  tenth  volume  of  the  "  Journal  of  the  Royal  Asiatic  Society." 


BATTLE  OF  MARATHON.  23 

though  unsuccessful  in  its  immediate  object,  had  brought  about 
the  subjugation  of  Thrace  and  the  svibmission  of  Macedonia. 
From  the  Indus  to  the  Peneus,  all  was  his. 

We  may  imagine  the  wrath  with  which  the  lord  of  so  many  na- 
tions must  have  heard,  nine  years  before  the  battle  of  Marathon, 
that  a  strange  nation  toward  the  setting  sun,  called  the  Athenians, 
had  dared  to  help  his  rebels  in  Ionia  against  him,  and  that  they 
had  plundered  and  burned  the  capital  of  one  of  his  provinces. 
Before  the  burning  of  Sardis,  Darius  seems  never  to  have  heard 
of  the  existence  of  Athens;  but  his  sr.traps  in  Asia  Minor  had  for 
some  time  seen  Athenian  refugees  at  their  provincial  courts  im- 
ploring assistance  against  their  fellow-countrymen.  When  Hip- 
pias  was  driven  away  from  Athens,  and  the  tyrannic  dynasty  of 
the  PisistratidfB  finally  overthrown  in  510  b.  c,  the  banished  ty- 
rant and  his  adherents,  after  vainly  seeking  to  be  restored  by 
Spartan  intervention,  had  betaken  themselves  to  Sardis,  the  capi- 
tal city  of  the  satrapy  of  Artaphernes.  There  Hippias  (in  the  ex- 
pressive words  of  Herodotus*)  began  every  kind  of  agitation,  slan- 
dering the  Athenians  before  Artaphernes,  and  doing  all  he  could 
to  induce  the  satrap  to  place  Athens  in  subjection  to  him,  as  the 
tributary  vassal  of  King  Darius.  When  the  Athenians  heard  ol 
his  practices,  they  pent  envoys  to  Sardis  to  remonstrate  with  the 
Persians  against  talking  up  the  quarrel  of  the  Athenian  refugees. 

But  Artaphernes  gave  them  in  reply  a  menacing  command  to 
receive  Hippias  back  again  if  they  looked  for  safety.  The  Athe- 
nians were  resolved  not  to  purchase  safetjr  at  such  a  price,  and 
after  rejecting  the  satrap's  terms,  they  considered  that  they  and 
the  Persians  were  declared  enemies.  At  this  very  crisis  the  Io- 
nian Greeks  implored  the  assistance  of  their  European  brethren, 
to  enable  them  to  recover  their  independence  from  Persia.  Athens, 
and  the  city  of  Eretria  in  Eubcea,  alone  consented.  Twenty  Athe- 
nian galleys,  and  five  Eretrian,  crossed  the  Mgsepji  Sea,  and  by  a 
bold  and  sudden  march  upon  Sardis,  the  Athenians  and  their  al- 
lies succeeded  in  capturing  the  capital  city  of  the  haughty  satrap, 
who  had  recently  menaced  them  with  servitude  or  destruction. 
They  were  pursued,  and  defeated  on  their  return  to  the  coast,  and 
Athens  took  no  further  part  in  the  Ionian  war:  but  the  insult  that 
she  had  put  upon  the  Persian  power  was  speedily  made  known 
throughout  that  empire,  and  was  never  to  be  forgiven  or  forgotten. 
In  the  emphatic  simplicity  of  the  narrative  of  Herodotus,  the 
wrath  of  the  Great  King  is  thus  described:  "Now  when  it  w^as 
told  to  King  Darius  that  Sardis  had  been  taken  and  turned  by  the 
Athenians  and  lonians,  he  took  small  heed  of  tlie  lonians,  well 
knowing  who  they  were,  and  that  their  revolt  would  soon  be  put 
down;  but  he  asked  who,  and  what  manner  of  men,  the  Athenians 

*  Herod.,  lib.  v.  c.  96. 


24  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

were.  And  when  he  had  been  told,  he  called  for  his  bow;  and, 
having  taken  it,  and  placed  an  arrow  on  the  string,  he  let  the  ar- 
row fly  toward  heaven,  and  as  he  shot  it  into  the  air,  he  said,  '  Oh! 
siiprenie  God,  grant  me  that  I  may  avenge  myself  on  the  Athe- 
nians.' And  when  he  had  said  this,  he  apjiointed  one  of  his  ser- 
vants to  say  to  him  every  day  as  he  sat  at  meat,  'Sire,  remember 
the  Athenians.'" 

Some  years  were  occnpied  in  the  complete  reduction  of  Ionia. 
But  when  this  was  effected,  Darius  ordered  his  victorious  forces 
to  proceed  to  punish  Athens  and  Eretria,  and  to  conquer  Euro- 
pean Greece.  The  first  armament  sent  for  this  purpose  was  shat- 
tered by  shipwreck,  and  nearly  destroyed  off  Mount  Athos.  But 
the  piirpose  of  King  Darius  was  not  easily  shaken.  A  larger  army 
was  ordered  to  be  collected  in  Cilicia,  and  requisitions  were  sent 
to  all  the  maritime  cities  of  the  Persian  empire  for  ships  of  war, 
and  for  transports  of  sufl&cient  size  for  carrying  cavalry  as  well  as 
infantry  across  the  Mgsean.  While  these  preparations  were  being 
made,  Darius  sent  heralds  round  to  the  Grecian  cities  demanding 
their  submission  to  Persia.  It  was  proclaimed  in  the  market-place 
of  each  little  Hellenic  state  (some  with  territories  not  larger  than 
the  Isle  of  Wight)  that  King  Darius,  the  lord  of  all  men,  from  the 
rising  to  the  setting  sun,*  required  earth  and  water  to  be  delivered 
to  his  heralds,  as  a  symbolical  acknowled^-ment  that  he  was  head 
and  master  of  the  country.  Terror-stricken  at  the  power  of  Persia 
and  at  the  severe  punishment  that  had  recently  been  inflicted  on 
the  refractory  lonians,  many  of  the  continental  Greeks  and  nearly 
all  the  islanders  svibmitted,  and  gave  the  required  tokens  of  vassal- 
age. At  Sparta  and  Athens  an  indignant  refusal  was  returned — a 
refusal  which  was  disgraced  by  outrage  'snd  violence  against  the 
persons  of  the  Asiatic  heralds. 

Fresh  fuel  was  thus  added  to  the  anger  of  Darius  against  Ath- 
ens, and  the  Persian  preparations  went  on  with  renewed  vigor. 
In  the  summer  of  490  b.  c,  the  army  destined  for  the  invasion 
was  assembled  in  the  Aleian  j)lain  of  Cilicia,  near  the  sea.  A 
fleet  of  six  hundred  galleys  and  numerous  transports  was  collect- 
ed on  the  coast  for  the  embarkation  of  troops,  horse  as  well  as 
foot.  A  Median  general  named  Datis,  and  Artaphernes,  the  son 
of  the  satrap  of  Sardis,  and  who  was  also  nephew  of  Darius, 
were  placed  in  titular  joint  command  of  the  expedition.  The 
real  supreme  authority  was  probably  given  to  Datis  alone,  from' 

*  ^EscMnes  in  Ctes.,  p.  522,  ed.  Reiske.  Mitford,  vol.  1 ,  p.  485.  ^scMnes 
is  speaking  of  Xerxes,  but  Mitford  is  probably  right  In  considering  it  as  the 
styles  of  the  Persian  knjgs  in  their  proclamations.  In  one  of  the  inscriptions 
at  Persepolls,  Darius  terms  himself  "  Darius,  the  great  king,  king  of  kings, 
the  king  of  the  many- peopled  countries,  the  supporter  also  of  this  great 
world."  In  another,  he  styles  himself  "  the  king  of  all  Inhabited  countries." 
(See  'Asiatic  Journal,"  vol.  x.,  p.  2S7  and  2\)2,  and  Major  Kawlinson's  Com- 
ments). 


BATTLE  OF  MARATHON.  25 

the  vray  in  ■which  the  Greek  writers  speak  of  him.  "We  know 
no  details  of  the  previous  career  of  this  otiicer  ;  but  there  is 
every  reason  to  believe  that  his  abilities  and  bravery  had  been 
proved  by  experience,  or  his  Median  birth  would  have  prevented 
his  being  j^laced  in  high  command  by  Darius.  He  appears  to 
have  been  the  first  Mede  who  was  thus  trusted  by  the  Persian 
kings  after  the  overthrow  of  the  conspiracy  of  the  Median  magi 
against  the  Persians  immediately  before  Darius  obtained  the 
throne.  Datis  received  instructions  to  complete  the  subjugation 
of  Greece,  and  especial  orders  were  given  him  with  regard  to 
Eretria  and  Athens.  He  was  to  take  these  two  cities,  and  he 
was  to  lead  the  inhabitants  away  captive,  and  bring  them  as 
slaves  into  the  presence  of  the  Great  King. 

Datis  embarked  his  forces  in  the  fleet  that  awaited  them,  and 
coasting  along  the  shores  of  Asia  INIinor  till  he  was  oif  Samos,  he 
thence  sailed  due  westward  through  the  ^gsean  Sea  for  Greece, 
taking  the  islands  in  his  way.  The  Naxians  had,  ten  years  be- 
fore, successfully  stood  a  siege  against  a  Persian  armament,  but 
they  now  were  too  terrified  to  offer  any  resistance,  and  fled  to 
the  mountain  tops,  while  the  enemy  burned  their  town  and  laid 
waste  their  lands.  Thence  Datis,  compelling  the  Greek  island- 
ers to  join  him  with  their  ships  and  men.  sailed  onward  to  the 
coast  of  Euba-a.  The  little  town  of  Carystus  essayed  resistance, 
but  was  quickly  overpowered.  He  ntxt  attacked  Eretria.  The 
Athenians  sent  four  thousand  men  to  its  aid  ;  but  treachery  was 
at  work  among  the  Eretrians  ;  and  the  Athenian  force  received 
timely  warning  from  one  of  the  leading  men  of  the  city  to  retire 
to  aid  in  saving  their  own  country,  instead  of  remaining  to  share 
in  the  inevitable  destruction  of  Eretria.  Left  to  themselves,  the 
Eretrians  repulsed  the  assaults  of  the  Persians  against  their  walla 
for  six  days  ;  on  the  seventh  they  were  betrayed  by  two  of  their 
chiefs,  and  the  Persians  occupied  the  city.  The  temples  were 
burned  in  revenge  for  the  firing  of  Sardis,  and  the  inhabitants 
were  bound,  and  placed  as  prisoners  in  the  neighboring  islet  of 
JSgilia,  to  wait  there  till  Datis  should  bring  the  Athenians  to 
join  them  in  captivity,  when  both  populations  were  to  be  led 
into  Upper  Asia,  there  to  learn  their  doom  from  the  lips  of  King 
Darius  himst  If. 

Flushed  with  success,  and  with  half  his  mission  thus  accom- 
plished, Datis  re-embarked  his  troops,  and,  crossing  the  little 
channel  that  separates  Euba?a  from  the  main  land,  he  encamped 
his  troops  on  the  Attic  coast  at  Marathon,  drawing  up  his  gal- 
leys on  the  shelving  beach,  as  was  the  custom  with  the  navies 
of  antiquity.  The  conqiiered  islands  behind  him  served  as 
places  of  deposit  for  his  provisions  and  military  stores.  His  po- 
sition at  Marathon  seemed  to  him  in  every  respect  advantageous, 
and  the  level  nature  of  the  ground  on  which  he  camped  was 
favorable  for  the  employment  of  his  cavalry,  if  the  Athenians 


26  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

should  venture  to  engage  him.  Hippias,  who  accompanied  him, 
and  acted  as  the  guide  of  the  invaders,  had  pointed  out  Mara- 
thon as  the  best  place  for  a  landing,  for  this  very  reason.  Prob- 
ably Hippias  was  also  influenced  by  the  recollection  that  forty- 
seven  years  previously,  he,  with  his  father  Pisistratus,  had  cross- 
ed with  an  army  from  Eretria  to  Marathon,  and  had  won  an 
easy  victory  over  their  Athenian  enemies  on  that  very  plain, 
which  had  restored  them  to  tyrannic  power.  The  omen  seemed 
cheering.  The  place  was  the  same  ;  but  Hij^pias  soon  leai-ned 
to  his  cost  how  great  a  change  had  come  over  the  spirit  of  the 
Athenians. 

But  though  "  the  fierce  democracy"  of  Athens  was  zealous  and 
true  against  foreign  invader  and  domestic  tyrant,  a  faction  existed 
in  Athens,  as  at  Eretria,  who  were  willing  to  purchase  a  party 
triumph  over  their  fellow-citizens  at  the  price  of  their  country's 
ruin.  Communications  were  opened  between  these  men  and  the 
Persian  camp,  which  would  have  led  to  a  catastrophe  like  that  of 
Eretria,  if  Miltiades  had  not  resolved  and  persuaded  his  colleagues 
to  resolve  on  fighting  at  all  hazards. 

When  Miltiades  arrayed  his  men  for  action,  he  staked  on  the 
arbitrament  of  one  battle  not  only  the  fate  of  Athens,  but  that  of 
all  Greece;  for  if  Athens  had  fallen,  no  other  Greek  state,  except 
Lacedsemon,  would  have  had  the  courage  to  resist;  and  the 
Lacedaemonians,  though  they  would  probably  have  died  in  their 
ranks  to  the  last  man,  never  could  have  successfully  resisted  the 
victorious  Persians  and  the  numerous  Greek  troops  which  would 
have  soon  marched  under  the  Persian  satraps,  had  they  prevailed 
over  Athens. 

Nor  was  there  any  power  to  the  westward  of  Greece  that  could 
have  ofi'ered  an  efifectiial  opposition  to  Persia,  had  she  once  con- 
quered Greece,  and  made  that  country  a  basis  for  future  military 
operations.  Eome  was  at  this  time  in  her  season  of  utmost  weak- 
ness. Her  dynasty  of  powerful  Etruscan  kings  had  been  driven 
out;  and  her  infant  commonwealth  was  reeling  under  the  attacks 
of  the  Etruscans  and  Volscians  from  without,  and  the  fierce  dis- 
sensions between  the  patricians  and  plebeians  within.  Etruria, 
with  her  Lucumos  and  serfs,  was  no  match  for  Persia.  Samnium 
had  not  grown  into  the  might  which  she  afterward  put  forth;  nor 
could  the  Greek  colonies  in  South  Italy  and  Sicily  hope  to  conquer 
when  their  parent  states  had  perished.  Carthage  had  escaped  the 
Persian  yoke  in  the  time  of  Cambyses,  through  the  reluctance  of 
the  Phenician  mariners  to  serve  against  their  kinsmen.  But 
such  forbearance  could  not  long  have  been  relied  on,  and  the 
future  rival  of  Eome  would  have  become  as  submissive  a  minister 
of  the  Persian  power  as  were  the  Phenician  cities  themselves.  If 
we  turn  to  Spain;  or  if  we  pass  the  great  mountain  chain,  which, 
prolonged  through  the  Pyrenees,  the  Cevennes,  the  Alps,  and  the 
Balkan,  divides  Northern  from  Southern  Europe,  we  shall  find 


BATTLE  OF  MARATHON.  27 

nothing  at  that  period  but  mere  savage  Finns,  Celts,  Slaves  and 
Teutons.  Had  Persia  beaten  Athens  at  Marathon,  she  could  have 
found  no  obstacle  to  prevent  Darius,  the  chosen  servant  of 
Ormxizd,  from  advancing  his  sway  over  all  the  known  Western 
races  of  mankind.  The  infant  energies  of  Europe  would  have 
been  trodden  out  beneath  universal  conquest,  and  the  history  of 
the  world,  like  the  history  of  Asia,  have  Ijecome  a  mere  record  of 
the  rise  and  fall  of  despotic  dynasties,  of  the  incursions  of 
barbarous  hordes,  and  of  the  mental  and  political  prostration  of 
millions  beneath  the  diadem,  the  tiara  and  the  sword. 

Great  as  the  preponderrnce  of  the  Persian  over  the  Athenian 
power  at  that  crisis  seems  to  have  been,  it  would  be  unjust  to 
impute  wild  rashness  to  the  policy  of  Miltiades,  and  those  who 
voted  with  him  in  the  Athenian  council  of  war,  or  to  look  on  the 
after-current  of  events  as  the  mere  fortunate  result  of  successful 
folly.  As  before  has  been  remarked,  Miltiades,  while  prince  of 
the  Chersonese,  had  seen  service  in  the  Persian  armies;  and  he 
knew  by  personal  observation  how  many  elements  of  weakness 
lurked  beneath  their  imposing  aspect  of  strength.  He  knew  that 
the  bulk  of  their  troops  no  longer  consisted  of  the  hardy  shepherds 
and  mountaineers  from  Persia  Proper  and  Kurdistan,  who  won 
Cyrus's  battles;  but  that  unwilling  contingents  from  conquered 
nations  now  filled  up  the  Persian  muster-rolls,  fighting  more  from 
compulsion  than  from  any  zeal  in  the  cause  of  their  masters.  He 
had  also  the  sagacity  and  the  spirit  to  appreciate  the  superiority 
of  the  Greek  armor  and  organization  over  the  Asiatic,  notwith- 
standing former  reverses.  Above  all,  he  felt  and  worthily  trusted 
the  enthusiasm  of  those  whom  he  led. 

The  Athenians  whom  he  led  had  proved  by  their  new-born 
valor  in  recent  wars  against  the  neighboring  states  that  "liberty 
and  equality  of  civic  rights  are  brave  spirit-stirring  things,  and 
they  who,  while  under  the  yoke  of  a  despot,  had  been  no  better 
men  of  war  than  any  of  their  neighbors,  as  soon  as  they  were  free, 
became  the  foremost  men  of  all;  for  each  felt  that  in  fighting  for  a 
free  commonwealth,  he  fought  for  himself,  and  whatever  he  took 
in  hand,  he  was  zealous  to  do  the  work  thoroughly."  So  the 
nearly  contemporaneous  historian  describes  the  change  of  spirit 
that  was  seen  in  the  Athenians  after  their  tyrants  were  expelled  ;* 
and  Miltiades  knew  that  in  leading  them  against  the  invading 
army,  where  they  had  Hippias,  the  foe  they  most  hated,  before 
them,  he  was  bringing  into  battle  no  ordinary  men,  and  could  cal- 

*  'ylOr^vaiot  j.tsy  vvv  r/v^r/vro-  St/XoI  de  ov  xar  e'v  j.iovov 
dXXd  TCavraxy  r}  l6i]yopir]  cb5  e6xi  xp^I^oc  6Ttov8alov,  si  xai 
'AOr/vaiot  rvpavvEvojuevoi  /.liv  ovSajitov  tc2v  d(p£a?  Ttsptoimd- 
rzaov  edav  rd  TtoAsjina  djusivovi,  dTcaAXaxOsyTf^  Se  rvpdv- 
vaov  /taxpc^  npcoroi  tyivovTO'  dr/Xol  gov  ravza  on  nazex^M- 
evot  niv  ef)E\oHd  xeov,  ooi  SsdvcdzT^  kpya^dfievov  sXEvOEpooOe- 


28  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

culate  on  no  ordinary  heroism.  As  for  traitors,  he  was  su'/e,  that 
whatever  treachery  might  Inrk  among  some  of  the  higher-born  and 
weahhier  Athenians,  the  rank  and  lil«  -^vhom  he  commanded  were 
ready  to  do  their  utmost  in  his  and  their  own  cause.  With  regard  to 
future  attacks  from  Asia,  he  might  reasonably  hope  that  one 
victory  would  inspirit  all  Greece  to  combine  against  the  common 
foe;  and  that  the  latent  seeds  of  revolt  and  disunion  in  the 
Persian  empire  would  soon  burst  forth  and  paralyze  its  energies, 
so  as  to  leave  Greek  independence  secure. 

With  these  hopes  and  risks,  Miltiades,  on  the  afternoon  of  a 
September  day,  490  b.  c,  gave  the  word  for  the  Athenian  army  to 
prepare  for  battle.  There  were  many  local  associations  connected 
with  those  mountain  heights  which  were  calculated  powertully  to 
excite  the  spirits  of  the  men,  and  of  which  the  commanders  well 
knew  how  to  avail  themselves  in  their  exhortations  to  their  troops 
before  the  encounter.  Marathon  itself  was  a  region  sacred  to 
Hercules.  Close  to  them  was  the  fountain  of  Macaria,  who  had  in 
days  of  yore  devoted  herself  to  death  for  the  liberty  of  her  people. 
The  very  plain  on  which  they  were  to  light  was  the  scene  of  the 
exploits  of  their  national  hero,  Theseus  :  and  there,  too,  as  old 
legends  told,  the  Athenians  and  the  Heraclida3  had  routed  the  in- 
vader, Eurystheus.  These  traditions  were  not  mere  cloudy  myths 
or  idle  fictions,  but  matters  of  implicit  earnest  faith  to  the  men  of 
that  day,  and  many  a  fervent  i^rayev  arose  from  the  Athenian  ranks 
to  the  heroic  spirits  who,  while  on  earth,  had  striven  and  siiflfered 
on  that  very  spot,  and  who  were  believed  to  be  now  heavenly  pow- 
ers, looking  down  with  interest  on  their  still  beloved  country,  and 
capable  of  interposing  with  superhuman  aid  in  its  behalf. 

According  to  old  national  custom,  the  warriors  of  each  tribe 
were  arrayed  together  ;  neighbor  thus  fighting  by  the  side  of  neigh- 
bor, friend  by  friend,  and  the  sj^irit  of  emulation  and  the  con- 
sciousness of  responsibility  excited  to  the  very  utmost.  The  War- 
ruler,  Callimachus,  had  the  leading  of  the  right  wing  ;  the  Plataeans 
formed  the  extreme  left ;  and  Themistocles  and  Aristides  com- 
manded the  center.  The  line  consisted  of  the  heavy  armed  spear- 
men only  ;  for  the  Greeks  (until  the  time  of  Iphicrates)  took  little 
or  no  account  of  light-armed  soldiers  in  a  pitched  battle,  using 
them  only  in  skirmishes,  or  for  the  pursuit  of  a  defeated  enemy. 

vTGOv  Se  avToi  £HadToi  loovroo  TtpoOvfXEeTO  HarspyaZedOaz. — 
liEROD,  lib.  vi.,  c.  87. 

:Mr.  Grote's  comment  on  tills  is  one  of  the  most  eloquent  and  philosoph- 
ical passages  In  his  admirable  fourth  volume. 

The  expression  7(j?//' op h;  XPVMO^  dTtovdalov  Is  like  some  lines  In  old 
Bartoour's  poem  ol  "  The  Bruce : " 

"  Ah,  Fredome  Is  a  noble  thing ; 
Fredome  maks  man  to  haiff  lyklng 
Fredome  all  solace  to  men  gives. 
He  lives  at  case  that  Ireely  lives." 


BATTLE  OF  MARATHON.  29 

The  panoply  of  the  regular  infantry  consisted  of  a  long  spear,  of  a 
ehield,  helmet,  bx-east-plate,  greaves,  and  short  sword.  'Thus 
equipped,  they  usually  advanced  slowly  and  steadily  into  action 
in  a  uniform  phalanx  of  about  eight  spears  deep.  But  thR  military 
genius  of  Miltiades  led  him  to  deviate  on  this  occasion  from  the 
commonpLace  tactics  of  his  countrymen.  It  was  essential  for  him 
to  extend  his  line  so  as  to  cover  all  the  practicable  ground,  and  to 
secure  himself  from  being  outflanked  and  charged  in  the  rear  by 
the  Persian  horse.  This  extension  involved  the  weakening  of  his 
line.  Instead  of  a  uniform  reduction  of  its  strength,  he  determined 
on  detaching  principally  from  his  center,  which,  from  the  nature 
of  the  ground,  would  have  the  best  opportunities  for  rallying,  if 
broken;  and  on  strengthening  his  wings  so  as  to  insure  advantage 
at  those  points;  and  he  trusted  to  his  own  skill  and  to  his  soldiers' 
discipline  for  the  improvement  of  that  advantage  into  decisive 
victory.  * 

In  this  order,  and  availing  himself  probably  of  the  inequalities 
of  the  ground,  so  as  to^  conceal  his  preiDarations  from  the  enemy 
till  the  last  possible  moment,  Miltiades  drew  up  the  eleven  thoi;- 
sand  infantry  whose  spears  were  to  decide  this  crisis  in  the  strug- 
gle between  the  European  and  the  Asiatic  worlds.  The  sacrifices 
by  which  the  favor  of  heaven  was  sought,  and  its  will  consulted, 
were  announced  to  show  propitious  omens.  The  trumpet  sounded 
for  action,  and,  chanting  the  hymn  of  battle,  the  little  army  boi'e 
down  upon  the  host  of  the  foe.  Then,  too,  along  the  mountain  slopes 
of  Marathon  must  have  resounded  the  mutual  exhortation,  which 
.ffischylus,  who  fought  in  both  battles,  tells  us  was  afterwards 
heard  over  the  waves  of  Salamis  :  "On,  sons  of  the  Greek! 
Strike  for  the  freedom  of  your  country  !  strike  for  the  freedom 
of  your  children  and  of  your  wives — for  the  shrines  of  your 
fathers'  gods,  and  for  the  sepulchers  of  your  sires.  All — all  are  now 
staked  upon  the  strife. " 

^£1  TtalSei  ^EXXrfVGOv,  ire 
'EXevOepovrs  nazpiS',  tXevOepovzs  8i 
■    Ilaldcxi,  yvvalHai,  Qec^v  te  narpojcov  edrj, 
QijHai  TE  Ttpoyovoov.    Nvv  vTtep  Ttavrajy  dyaov* 

Instead  of  advancing  at  the  usual  slow  pace  of  the  phalanx 
Miltiades  brought  his   men  on  at  a  run.      They  were  all  trained 


*  It  Is  remarkable  that  tliere  is  no  other  Instance  of  a  Greek  general 
deviating-  from  the  ordinary  mode  of  briugui!^'^  a  iihalanx  of  spearmen  Into 
action  until  the  battles  of  Leuctra  and  Mantiucii,  nioic  than  a  eentuiy  alter 
Marathon,  when  Kpainlnondas  lutrodueod  tlie  tactics  which  Alexander  the 
Great  In  ancient  times,  and  Frederic  the  Great  In  modern  limes,  made  so 
tamous,  of  concentrating  an  overpowering  force  to  bear  on  some  decisive 
point  of  the  enemy's  line,  while  he  kept  back,  or.  In  military  phrase,  refused 
tbe  weaker  part  of  his  own.  "  Persaj,  "402. 


30  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

in  the  exercises  of  the  palsestra,  so  that  there  was  no  fear  of  their 
ending  the  charge  in  breathless  exhaustion  ;  and  it  was  of  the 
deepest  importance  for  him  to  ti-averse  as  rapidly  as  possible  the 
mile  or  so  of  level  ground  that  lay  between  the  mountain  foot 
and  the  Persian  outpost,  and  so  to  get  his  troops  into  close  action 
before  the  Asiatic  cavalry  could  mount,  form  and  maneuver 
against  him,  or  their  archers  kept  him  long  under  fire,  and  before 
the  enemy's  generals  could  fairly  deploy  their  masses. 

"When  the  Persians,"  says  Herodotus,  "saw  the  Athenians 
running  down  on  them,  without  horse  or  bowmen,  and  scanty  in 
numbers,  they  thought  them  a  set  of  madmen  rushing  upon  cer- 
tain destruction . "  They  began,  however,  to  prepare  to  receive 
them,  and  the  Eastern  chiefs  arrayed,  as  quickly  as  time  and  place 
allowed,  the  varied  races  who  served  in  their  motly  ranks.  Moun- 
taineers from  Hyrcania  and  Afghanistan,  wild  hoi'semen  from  the 
steppes  of  Khorassan,  and  black  archers  of  Ethiopia,  swordsmen 
from  the  banks  of  the  Indus,  and  Oxus,  the  Euphrates,  and  the 
Nile,  made  ready  against  the  enemies  of  the  great  King.  But  no 
national  cause  inspired  them  except  the  division  of  native  Per- 
sians ;  and  in  the  large  host  there  was  no  uniformity  of  language, 
creed,  race,  or  military  system.  Still,  among  them  there  were 
many  gallant  men,  under  a  veteran  general ;  they  were  familiarized 
with  victory,  and  in  contemptuous  confidence,  their  infantry 
which  alone  had  time  to  form,  awaited  the  Athenian  charge.  On 
came  the  Greeks,  with  one  unwavering  line  of  leveled  spears,  against 
which  the  light  targets,  the  short  lances  andcimeters  of  the  Orien- 
tals, offered  weak  defense.  The  front  rank  of  the  Asiatics  must 
have  gone  down  to  a  man  at  the  first  shock.  Still  they  recoiled 
not,  but  strove  by  individual  gallantry  and  by  weight  of  num- 
bers to  make  up  for  the  disadvantages  of  weapons  and  tactics, 
and  to  bear  back  the  shallow  lines  of  the  Europeans.  In  the 
center,  where  the  native  Persians  and  the  Sacse  fought,  they  suc- 
ceeded in  breaking  through  the  weakened  part  of  the  Athenian 
phalanx ;  and  the  tribes  led  by  Aristides  and  Themistocles  were, 
after  a  brave  resistance,  driven  back  over  the  plain,  and  chased 
by  the  Persians  up  the  valley  toward  the  inner  country .  There 
the  nature  of  the  ground  gave  the  opportunity  of  rallying  and 
renewing  the  struggle.  Meanwhile,  the  Greek  wings,  where 
Miltiades  had  concentrated  his  chief  strength,  had  routed  the 
Asiatics  opposed  to  them  ;  and  the  Athenian  and  Plataean  of- 
ficers, instead  of  pursuing  the  fugitives,  kept  their  troops  well 
in  hand,  and  wheeling  round,  they  formed  the  two  wings  to, 
gether.  Miltiades  instantly  led  them  against  the  Persian  center, 
which  had  hitherto  been  triumphant,  but  which  now  fell  back, 
and  prepared  to  encounter  those  new  and  unexpected  assailants. 
Aristides  and  Themistocles  renewed  the  fight  with  their  reorgan- 
ized troops,  and  the  full  force  of  the  Greeks  was  brought  into 
close  action  with  the  Persian  and  Sacian  divisions  of  the  enemy. 


BATTLE  OF  MARATHON.  31 

Datis's  veterans  strove  hard  to  keep  their  ground,  and  evening* 
^vas  approaching  before  the  stern  encounter  was  decided. 

But  the  Persians,  with  their  slight  wicker  shields,  destitute  of 
body-armor,  and  never  taught  by  training  to  keep  the  even  front 
and  act  with  the  regular  movement  of  the  Greek  infantry,  fought 
at  heavy  disadvantage  with  their  shorter  and  feebler  weapons 
against  the  compact  array  of  well-armed  Athenian  and  Platsean 
fspearmen,  all  perfectly  drilled  to  perform  each  necessary  evolution 
in  concert,  and  to  preserve  a  uniform  and  unwavering  line  in  bat- 
tle. In  personal  courage  and  in  bodily  activity  the  Persians  were 
not  inferior  to  their  adversaries.  Their  spirits  were  not  yet  cowed 
by  the  recollection  of  former  defeats;  and  they  lavished  their  lives 
freely,  rather  than  forfeit  the  fame  which  they  had  won  by  so  many 
victories.  While  their  rear  ranks  poured  an  incessant  shower  of 
arrows!  over  the  heads  of  their  comrades,  the  foremost  Persians 
kept  rushing  forward,  sometimes  singly,  sometimes  in  desperate 
groups  of  twelve  or  ten  upon  the  projecting  sj^ears  of  the  Greeks, 
striving  to  force  a  lane  into  the  phalanx,  and  to  bring  their  cime- 
ters  and  daggers  into  play.f  But  the  Greeks  felt  their  superiority, 
and  though  the  fatigue  of  the  long-continued  action  told  heavily 
on  their  inferior  numbers,  the  sight  of  the  carnage  that  they  dealt 
ujion  their  assailants  nerved  them  to  iight  still  more  fiercely  on. 

At  last  the  previously  unvanquished  lords  of  Asia  turned  their 
backs  and  fled,  and  the  Greeks  followed,  striking  them  down,  to 
the  water's  edge,§  where  the  invaders  were  now  hastily  launching 
their  galleys,  and  seeking  to  embark  and  fly.  Flushed  with  suc- 
cess, the  Athenians  attacked  and  strove  to  fire  the  fleet.  But  here 
the  Asiatics  resisted  desperately,  and  the  principal  loss  sustained 
by  the  Greeks  was  in  the  assault  on  the  ships.  Here  fell  the  brave 
War-ruler  Callimachus,  the  general  Stesilaus,  and  other  Athenians 
of  note.     Seven  galleys  were  fired;  but  the  Persians  succeeded  in 

*  L-i/lA'  o/j.o[)<i  dxGodojuEdOa  c,vv  Qeoii  itpoi  edTCepa—A^iaTOFU., 
Vespae.  10S4. 
t     'l^iaxojuedd'  avroidt,  Ov^ov  o^ivrjv  itETCGOKOVEi, 

jSraS  dvTJp  nap  drSp,  t'r'  opyff?  ttjv  xS'^vvt/v  kdBioov 
Tno  Se  rear  ro^svjitdrGDv  ovh  r/v  iSsiv  vov  ovpavov. 

Aristoph.,  Vespae,  1082. 
t  See  the  description  In  the  62d  section  of  the  ninth  book  of  Herodotus  ol 
the  gallantry  shown  by  the  Persian  infantry  against  the  Lucedajmonians  at 
Plattea.  We  have  no  .similar  detail  of  the  fight  at  Marathon,  but  we  know 
that  it  was  long  and  obstinately  contested  (see  the  113th  section  of  the  sl.icth 
book  of  Herodotus,  and  the  lines  from  the  Vespie  already  quoted),  and  the 
splilt  of  the  I'ersians  must  have  been  even  higher  at  Marathon  than  at 
Platasa.  In  both  battles  it  was  only  the  true  Persians  and  the  Sacie  who 
showed  thla  valor :  the  other  Asiatics  Qed  like  sheep. 
i  The  flying  Mede,  his  shaftless  broken  bow ; 

The  fiery  Greek,  his  rod  pursuing  spear  ; 
y;Ountulns  above,  Earth's.  Ocean's  plain  below. 
Death  In  the  front,  Destruction  in  the  rear  I 
Such  was  the  scene.— Byron's  Childe  Harold. 


32  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

saving  the  rest.  They  pushed  off  from  the  fatal  shore;  but  even 
here  the  skill  of  Datis  did  not  desert  him,  and  he  sailed  round  to 
the  western  coast  of  Attica,  in  hopes  to  find  the  city  unprotected, 
and  to  gain  possession  of  it  from  some  of  the  partisans  of  Hippias. 
Miltiades,  however,  saw  and  counteracted  his  maneuver.  Leaving 
Aristides,  and  the  troops  of  his  tribe,  to  guard  the  sjDoil  and  the 
slain,  the  Athenian  commander  led  his  conquering  army  by  a  rapid 
night-march  back  across  the  country  to  Athens.  And  when  the 
Persian  fleet  had  doubled  the  Cape  of  Sunium  and  sailed  up  to 
the  Athenian  harbor  in  the  morning,  Datis  saw  arrayed  on  the 
heights  above  the  city  the  troops  before  whom  his  men  had  fled  on 
the  preceding  evening.  All  hope  of  further  conquest  in  Europe 
for  the  time  was  abandoned,  and  the  baffled  armada  returned  to 
the  Asiatic  coasts. 

After  the  battle  had  been  fought,  but  while  the  dead  bodies 
were  yet  on  the  ground,  the  promised  re-enforcements  from  Sparta 
arrived.  Two  thoiisand  Lacedaemonian  spearmen,  starting  im- 
mediately after  the  fvill  moon,  had  marched  the  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  between  Athens  and  Sparta  in  the  wonderfully  short  time  of 
three  days.  Though  too  late  to  share  in  the  glory  of  the  action, 
they  requested  to  be  allowed  to  march  to  the  battle-field  to  behold 
the  Medes.  They  proceeded  thither,  gazed  on  the  dead  bodies  of 
the  invaders,  and  then,  praising  the  Athenians  and  what  they  had 
done,  they  returned  to  Lacedtemon. 

The  number  of  the  Persian  dead  was  6400  ;  of  the  Athenians, 
192.  The  number  of  the  Platseans  who  fell  is  not  mentioned;  but, 
as  they  fought  in  the  part  of  the  army  which  was  not  broken,  it  can 
not  have  been  large. 

The  apparent  disproportion  between  the  losses  of  the  two  armies 
is  not  surprising  when  we  remember  the  armor  of  the  Greek  spear- 
men, and  the  impossibility  of  heavy  slaughter  being  inflicted  by 
sword  or  lance  on  troops  so  armed,  as  long  as  they  kept  firm  in  their 
ranks.* 

The  Athenian  slain  were  buried  on  the  field  of  battle.  This  was 
contrary  to  the  usual  custom,  according  to  which  the  bones  of  all 
who  fell  fighting  for  their  country  in  each  year  were  deposited  in 
a  public  sepiilcher  in  the  subiirb  of  Athens  called  the  Cerameicus. 
But  it  was  felt  that  a  distinction  ought  to  be  made  in  the  funeral 
honors  paid  to  the  men  of  Marathon,  even  as  their  merit  had  been 
distinguished  over  that  of  all  other  Athenians.  A  lofty  mound  was 
raised  on  the  plain  of  Marathon,  beneath  whieh  the  remains  of  the 
men  of  Athens  who  fell  in  the  battle  were  deposited.  Ten  columns 
were  erected  on  the  spot,  one  for  each  of  the  Athenian  tribes  ;  and 
on  the  monumental  column  of  each  tribe  were  graven  the  names 
of  those  of  its  members  whose  glory  it  was  to  have  fallen  in  the 

*  Mltford  well  refers  to  Crecy,  Polctlers,  and  Aglncourt  as  Instances  ot 
similar  disparity  o£  loss  toetween  the  conquerers  and  the  conquered. 


BATTLE   OF  MARATHON.  33 

great  battle  of  liberation.  The  antiquarian  Pansanias  read  those 
names  there  six  himelrecl  years  after  the  time  -^vhen  they  v,-ere  first 
graven.  *  The  columns  have  long  perished,  but  the  mound  still 
marks  the  spot  where  the  noblest  heroes  of  antiquity,  the  Mapa- 
dcovotjaxoi,  repose.  ^ 

A  separate  tumulus  was  raised  over  the  bodies  of  the  slain  Pla- 
tfeans,  and  another  over  the  light-armed  slaves  who  had  taken  part 
and  had  fallen  in  the  battle,  f  There  was  also  a  separate  funeral 
monument  to  the  general  to  whose  genius  the  victory  was  mainly 
.due.  Miltiades  did  not  live  long  after  his  achievement  at  Mara- 
thon, but  he  lived  long  enough  to  experience  a  lamentable  royena. 
of  his  popularity  and  success.  As  soon  as  the  Persians  had  quitted 
the  western  coasts  of  the  Ji^gasan,  he  proposed  to  an  assembly  of 
tho  Athenian  people  that  they  should  fit  out  seventy  galleys,  with 
a  pi-oportionate  force  of  soldiers  and  military  stores,  and  place  it 
at  his  disposal;  not  telling  them  whither  he  meant  to  lead  it,  but 
promising  them  that  if  they  would  equip  the  force  he  asked  for, 
and  give  him  discretionary  powers,  he  would  lead  it  to  a  land 
where  there  was  gold  in  abundance  to  be  won  with  ease.  The 
Greeks  of  that  time  believed  in  the  existence  of  Eastern  realms 
teeming  with  gold,  as  firmly  as  the  Europeans  of  the  sixteenth 
century  believed  in  El  Dorado  of  the  West.  The  Athenians  prob- 
ably thought  that  the  recent  victor  of  Marathon,  and  the  former 
officer  of  Darius,  was  about  to  lead  them  on  a  secret  expedition 
Against  some  wealthy  and  unprotected  cities  of  treasure  in  the  Per- 
sian dominions.  The  armament  was  voted  and  equipped,  and 
sailed  eastward  from  Attica,  no  one  but  Miltiades  knowing  its  dis- 
titation  imtil  the  Greek  isle  of  Paros  was  reached,  Mhen  his  true 
object  appearv-id.  In  former  years,  while  connected  with  the  Per- 
sians as  prince  of  the  Chersonese,  Miltiades  had  been  involved  in 
a  quarrel  with  one  of  the  leading  men  among  the  Parians,  who 
had  iujured  his  credit  and  caused  some  slights  to  be  put  upon  him 
at  the  court  of  ti\e  Persian  satrap  Hydarnes.  The  feud  had  ever 
since  rankled  in  the  heart  of  the  Athenian  chief,  and  he  now  at- 
tacked Paros  for  tlie  sake  of  avenging  himself  on  his  ancient  enemy. 
His  pretext,  as  ge.ieral  of  the  Athenians,  was,  that  the  Parians  had 
aided  the  armameat  of  Datis  with  a  war-galley.  The  Parians  pre- 
tended to  treat  about  terms  of  surrender,  but  used  the  time  which 


*  Pausan\as  states,  -^rith  Implicit  tellef ,  that  the  'battle-fleM  was  haunted 
at  Eight  by  rtUpcrnatuiul  beings,  and  that  the  noise  of  comhatants  and  the 
snoi-ting  or  horses  were  heard  to  resound  on  It.  'I'lie  superstition  has  sur- 
vived the  change  ot  cixvnls,  and  the  slicphcrds  of  the  ni'iuhborhood  st  ill  be- 
lieve that  specf.ral  warriors  contend  on  tin  ■  plain  at  nii(lnij;ht,  and  tlicysay 
that  they  liave  luiard  the  shoiUs  of  the  combatants  and  the  neighing  of  the 
Steeds.    See  Orote  and  'I  liirlwall. 

t  It  IS  probable  that  the  Greek  light-armed  Irregulars  were  active  in  the 
attack  on  t  he  Persian  sliliis,  and  it  was  in  this  attack  that  the  Greeks  suffer- 
ed their  principal  loss. 
D.B.— 2 


84  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

tliey  thus  gained  in  rei^airing  the  defective  parts  of  tlio  fortificfv- 
tions  of  their  city,  and  they  then  set  the  Athenians  at  detiance.  So 
far,  says  Herodotus,  the  accounts  of  all  the  Greeks  agree.  But  the 
Parians  in  after  years  tokl  also  a  ■wild  legend,  how  a  captive  priest- 
ess of  a  Parian  temple  of  the  Deities  of  the  Earth  promised  Milti- 
ades  to  give  him  the  means  of  capturing  Paros;  how,  at  her  bid- 
ding, the  Athenian  general  went  alone  at  night  and  forced  his  way 
into  a  holy  shrin*,  near  the  city  gate,  but  with  what  purj^ose  it 
was  not  known;  how  a  supernatural  awe  came  over  him,  and  in 
his  flight  he  fell  and  fractured  his  leg;  how  an  oracle  afterward 
forbade  the  Parians  to  punish  the  sacrilegious  and  traitorous  priest- 
ess, "because  it  was  fated  that  Miltiades  should  come  to  an  ill 
end,  and  she  was  only  the  instrument  to  lead  him  to  evil."  Such 
was  the  tale  that  Herodotus  heard  at  Paros.  Certain  it  was  that 
Miltiades  either  dislocated  or  broke  his  leg  during  an  unsuccess- 
ful siege  of  the  city,  and  returned  home  in  evil  plight  with  his  baf- 
fled and  defeated  forces. 

The  indignation  of  the  Athenians  was  proportionate  to  the  hope 
and  excitement  which  his  promises  had  raised.  Xanthippus,  the 
head  of  one  of  the  first  families  in  Athens,  indicted  him  before  the 
supreme  popular  tribunal  for  the  capital  offense  of  having  deceived 
the  people.  His  guilt  was  undeniable,  and  the  Athenians  passed 
their  verdict  accordingly.  But  the  recollections  of  Lemnos  and 
Marathon,  and  the  sight  of  the  fallen  general,  who  lay  stretched 
on  a  couch  before  them,  pleaded  successfully  in  mitigation  of  pun- 
ishment, and  the  sentence  was  commuted  from  death  to  a  fine  of 
fifty  talents.  This  was  paid  by  his  son,  the  afterward  illustrious 
Cimon,  Miltiades  dying,  soon  after  the  trial,  of  the  injury  which 
he  had  received  at  Paros.* 

*  The  commonplace  calumnies  against  the  Athenians  respecting  MUtiades 
have  heen  ^vell  answered  by  Sir  Edward  Lytton  Bulwor  in  his  "  Rise  and 
Fall  of  Athens,"  and  Bishop  Thirlwall  in  the  second  volume  of  his  "  History 
of  Greece  ;"  but  they  ha^  e  received  their  most  complete  refutation  from  Mr. 
Grote,  inthe  fourth  volume  of  his  lUstoiy,  p.  490,  et.  seq.,  and  notes.  I 
quite  concur  with  him  that,  "looking  to  the  practice  of  the  Athenian  dicas- 
tery  In  ciinunal  cases,  that  fllty  talents  was  the  minor  penalty  actually 
proposed  by  the  defenders  of  Miltiades  themselves  as  a  substitute  for  the 
punishment  of  death.  In  those  penal  cases  at  Athens  where  the  punish- 
ment was  not  fixed  beforehand  by  the  terms  of  the  law.  if  the  person  ac- 
cused was  found  guilty,  it  was  customary  to  submit  to  the  jurors  subse- 
quently and  separately  the  question  as  to  amount  of  pimlshment.  Fnst,  \ 
the  accuser  named  the  penally  Avhlch  he  thought  suitable;  next,  the  ac- 
cused person  was  called  upon  to  name  an  amount  of  penalty  for  himself, 
and  the  jui-ors  wei'e  constrained  to  take  theu  choice  between  these  two,  no 
third  gradation  of  penalty  being  admlssable  for  consideration.  Of  coiuse, 
under  such  circiunstances,  it  \\  as  the  Interest  of  the  accused  party  to  name, 
even  in  his  own  case,  some  real  and  serious  penalty,  something  which  the 
jurors  might  be  hkely  to  deem  not  wholly  inadequate  to  his  crime  just 
proved  ;  for  If  he  proposed  some  penalty  only  trifling,  he  di'ove  them  to  pre- 
ler  the  heavier  sentence  recommended  by  his  ojipohent."  The  stories  of 
Hiltiades  having  beea  cast  into  prison  and  died  there,  and  of  his  haxlng 


BATTLE  OF  MABATIWN.  35 

The  melanclioly  end  of  Miltiades,  after  his  elevation  to  such  a 
height  of  power  and  glory,  must  often  have  been  recalled  to  the 
minds  of  the  ancient  Greeks  by  the  sight  of  one  in  particular  of 
the  memorials  of  the  great  battle  which  he  won.  This  was  the  re- 
markable statue  (minutely  described  by  Pausanias)  which  the 
Athenians,  in  the  time  of  Pericles,  caused  to  be  hewn  out  of  a  huge 
block  of  marble,  which,  it  was  believed,  had  been  provided  by 
Datis,  to  form  a  trophy  of  the  anticipated  victory  of  the  Persians. 
Phidias  fashioned  out  of  this  a  colossal  image  of  the  goddess 
Nemesis,  the  deity  whose  jDeculiar  function  was  to  visit  the  exuber- 
ant prosperity  both  of  nations  and  individuals  with  sudden  and 
awful  reverses.  This  statue  was  placed  in  a  temple  of  the  goddess 
at  Ehamnus,  about  eight  miles  from  Marathon.  Athens  itself  con- 
tained numerous  memorials  of  her  primary  great  victory.  Panenus, 
the  cousin  of  Phidias,  represented  it  in  fresco  on  the  walls  of  the 
painted  porch;  and,  centuries  aftenvard,  the  figures  of  Miltiades 
and  Callimachus  at  the  head  of  the  Athenians  were  conspicuous 
in  the  fresco.  The  tutelary  deities  were  exhibited  taking  part  in 
the  fray.  In  the  back-ground  were  seen  the  Phenician  galleys, 
and,  nearer  to  the  spectator,  the  Athenians  and  Plataeans  (dis- 
tinguished by  their  leather  helmets)  were  chasing  routed  Asiatics 
into  the  marshes  and  the  sea.  The  battle  was  sculptured  aLso  on 
the  Temple  of  Victory  in  the  Acropolis,  and  even  now  there  may 
be  traced  on  the  frieze  the  figures  of  the  Persian  combatants  with 
their  lunar  shields,  their  bows  and  quivers,  their  cui-ved  cimeters, 
their  loose  trowsers,  and  Phrygian  tiaras.* 

These  and  other  memorials  of  Marathon  were  the  produce  of 
the  meridian  age  of  Athenian  intellectual  splendor,  of  the  age  of 
Phidias  and  Pericles  ;  for  it  was  not  merely  by  the  generation 
■whom  the  battle  liberated  from  Hippias  and  the  Medes  that  the 
transcendent  importance  of  their  victory  was  gratefully  recog- 
nized. Through  the  whole  epoch  of  her  prosperity,  through  the 
long  Olympiads  of  her  decay,  through  centuries  after  her  fall, 
Athens  looked  back  on  the  day  of  Marathon  as  the  brightest  of  her 
national  existence. 

been  savert  from  rloath  only  by  the  Interposition  of  the  prytanls  of  the  day, 
are,  I  think,  rightly  leiiMtcd  by  Air.  Grote  as  the  lictions  of  after  ages.  The 
ellence  of  Herodotus  rcspeeling  them  is  decisive.  It  is  true  that  IMato,  in 
the  Gorglas,  says  that  the  Athenians  passed  a  vote  to  throw  Miltiades  into 
the  Barathrum,  and  speaks  of  the  interposition  of  the  prytanls  in  his  favor ; 
but  it  is  to  he  remembered  that  riato,  witli  all  lils  transcendent  genius, 
was  as  Kicbuhr  has  t^enned  him,  a  very  indifferent  patriot,  who  loved  to 
blacken  the churacler  of  his  country's  demociaiic-al  institutions;  and  If 
the  fact  was  not  that  the  prytanls,  at  the  liial  of  AHltiades.  oiiposed  the 
vote  of  capital  punlslinient,  and  spoke  in  favor  of  the  mildi  r  scnti'iicc,  ''lalo 
(In  a  jiassM'jje  wrltti'n  to  sliow  the  mlsfnrlnnfs  tliat  Iv'ii  11  Atlionliin  slates. 
men)  would  readily  exaggerate  this  fact  into  the  story  that  appears  In  his 
text. 
*  Wordsworth's  "  Greece,"  p.  115. 


S6  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

By  a  natural  blending  of  patriotic  pride  •with  grateful  piety, 
the  very  spirits  of  the  Athenians  who  fell  at  Marathon  were  deified 
by  their  countiymen.  The  inhabitants  of  the  district  of  Mara- 
thon ])aid  religious  rites  to  them  ;  and  orators  solemnly  invoked 
them  in  their  most  impassioned  adjurations  before  the  assembled 
men  of  Athens.  "Nothing  was  omitted  that  could  keep  alive 
the  remembrance  of  a  deed  which  had  first  taught  the  Athenian 
people  to  know  its  own  strength,  by  measuring  it  with  the  power 
which  had  subdued  the  greater  part  of  the  known  world.  The 
conscioiisness  thus  awakened  fixed  its  character,  its  station,  and  its 
destiny  ;  it  was  the  spring  of  its  later  great  actions  and  ambitious 
enterprises.  * 

It  was  not  indeed  by  one  defeat,  however  signal,  that  the  pride 
of  Persia  could  be  broken,  and  her  dreams  of  universal  empire 
dispelled.  Ten  years  afterward  she  renewed  her  attempts  upon 
Europe  upon  a  grander  scale  of  enterprise,  and  was  repulsed  by 
Greece  with  greater  and  reiterated  loss.  Larger  forces  and  heav- 
ier slaughter  than  had  been  seen  at  Marathon  signalized  the  con- 
flicts of  Greeks  and  Persians  nt  Artemisium,  Salamis,  Plat«a,  and 
the  Eurj'^medon.  But,  mighty  and  momentous  as  these  battles 
were,  they  ranked  not  with  Marathon  in  importance.  They  orig- 
inated no  new  impulse.  They  turned  back  no  current  of  fate. 
They  were  merely  confirmatory  of  the  already  existing  bias  which 
Marathon  had  created .  The  day  of  Marathon  is  the  critical  epoch 
in  the  history  of  the  two  nations.  It  broke  forever"  the  spell  of 
Persian  invincibility,  which  had  previously  paralj^zed  men's 
minds.  It  generated  among  the  Greeks  the  spirit  which  beat  back 
Xerxes,  and  afterward  led  onXenephon,  Agorilaus,  and  Alexander, 
in  terrible  retaliation  through  their  Asiatic  campaigns.  It  se- 
cured for  mankind  the  intellectual  treasures  of  Athens,  the  growth 
of  free  institutions,  the  liberal  enlightenment  of  the  Western 
world,  and  the  gradual  ascendency  for  many  ages  of  the  great 
principle  of  European  civilization. 


EXPLANATOKY  EeMAEES   ON   SOJJE   OF  THE   CtBCTTMSTANCES  OP 
THE  BaTTTxE   OE   MaEAXHON. 

Nothing  is  said  by  Herodotus  of  the  Persian  cavalry  taking  any 
part  in  the  battle,  although  he  mentions  that  Hijipias  recom- 
mended the  Persians  to  land  at  Marathon,  because  the  plan  was 
favorable  for  cavalry  revolutions.  In  the  life  of  Miltiades,  which 
is  usually  cited  as  the  production  of  Cornelius  Nepos,  but  M'hich  I 
believe  to  be   of  no  authority  whetever,  it  is  said  that  Miltiades 

*  Thlilwall. 


BATTLE  OF  MAEATROK.  37 

protected  nis  flanks  from  the  enemy's  horse  by  an  abatis  of  felled 
trees.  While  he  was  on  the  high  ground  he  -wonld  not  have  re- 
quired this  defense,  and  it  is  not  likely  that  the  Persians  would 
have  allowed  him  to  erect  it  on  the  plain. 

Bishop  Thirlwall  calls  our  attention  to  a  passage  in  Suidas, 
where  the  proverb  XoSpii  iTtTteii  is  said  to  have  originated  from 
some  Ionian  Greeks  who  were  serving  compulsorily  in  the  army 
of  Datis,  contriving  to  inform  Miltiades  that  the  Persian  cavahy 
had  gone  away,  whereupon  Miltiades  immediately  joined  battle 
and  gained  the  victory.  There  may  probably  be  a  gleam  ol 
truth  in  this  legend,  If  Datis's  cavalry  was  numerous,  as  the 
abundant  pastures  of  Euboea  were  close  at  hand,  the  Persian  gen- 
eral,  when  he  thought,  from  the  inaction  of  his  enemy,  that  they 
did  not  mean  to  come  down  from  the  heights  and  give  battle, 
might  naturally  send  the  larger  part  of  his  horse  back  across  the 
channel  to  the  neighborhood  of  Erotria,  where  he  had  already  left 
a  detachment,  and  where  his  military  stores  must  have  been  de- 
posited. The  knowledge  of  such  a  movement  would  of  course 
confirm  Miltiades  in  his  resolution  to  bring  on  a  speedy  en- 
gagement. 

But,  in  truth,  whatever  amount  of  cavalry  we  suppose  Datis 
to  have  had  with  him  on  the  day  of  Marathon,  their  inaction  in 
the  battle  is  intelligible,  if  we  believe  the  attack  of  the  Athenian 
spearmen  to  have  been  as  sudden  as  it  was  rapid.  The  Persian 
horse-soldier,  on  an  alarm  being  given,  had  to  take  the  rhackles 
off  his  horse,  to  strap  the  saddle  on,  and  bridle  him,  besides  equii:)- 
ping  himself  (see  Xenoph.,  "  Anab.,"  lib.  iii.  c.  4.);  and  when  each 
individual  horseman  was  ready,  the  line  had  to  be  formed  ;  and 
the  time  it  takes  to  form  the  Oriental  cavalry  in  line  for  a  charge 
has,  in  all  ages,  been  observed  by  Europeans. 

The  wet  state  of  the  marshes  at  each  end  of  the  plain,  in  the 
time  of  the  year  when  the  battle  was  fought,  has  been  adverted  to 
by  Mr.  Wordsworth,  and  this  would  hinder  the  Persian  general 
from  aiTanging  and  employing  his  horsemen  on  his  extreme  wings, 
while  it  also  enabled  the  Greeks,  as  they  came  forward,  to  oc- 
cupy the  whole  breadth  of  the  practicable  ground  with  an  un- 
broken line  of  leveled  spears,  against  which,  if  any  Persian  horse 
advanced,  they  would  be  driven  back  in  confusion  upon  their  own 
foot. 

Even  numerous  and  fully-arrayed  bodies  of  cavalry  have  been 
repeatedly  broken,  both  in  ancient  and  modern  warfare,  by  reso- 
lute charges  of  infantry.  For  instance,  it  was  by  an  attack  of 
some  picked  cohorts  tliat  Caesar  routed  the  Pompeian  cavalry 
(which  had  previously  defeated  his  own),  and  won  the  battle  of 
Pharsalia. 

I  have  represented  the  battle  of  Marathon  as  beginning  in  the 
afternoon  and  ending  toward  evening.  If  it  had  lasted  all  (la,j, 
Herodotus  would  have  probably  mentioned  that  fact.      That  it 


38  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

ended  toTvard  evening  is,  I  think,  proved  by  the  line  from  the 
*'  Yespfe,"  which  I  have  already  quoted,  and  to  which  my  attention 
was  called  by  Sir  Edward  Biilwer's  account  of  the  battle.  I  think 
that  the  succeeding  lines  in  Aristophanes,  also  already  quoted, 
justify  the  description  which  I  have  given  of  the  rear  ranks  of  the 
Persians  keeping  up  a  fire  of  arrows  over  the  heads  of  their  com- 
rades, as  the  Normans  did  at  Hastings. 


Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battlb  of  Maeathon,  b.  c.  490. 
AND  THE  Defeat  of  the  Athenians  at  Svkacuse,  B.  C.  413. 

B.  C.  490  to  487.  All  Asia  filled  with  the  preparations  made  by 
King  Darius  for  a  new  expedition  against  Greece.  Themistocles 
persuades  the  Athenians  to  leave  off  dividing  the  jiroceeds  of  their 
silver  mines  among  themselves,  and  to  employ  the  money  in 
strengthening  their  navy. 

487.  Egypt  revolts  from  the  Persians,  and  delays  the  expedition 
against  Greece. 

485.  Darius  dies,  and  Xerxes  his  son  becomes  King  of  Persia  in 
Ms  stead. 

484.  The  Persians  recover  Egypt. 

480.  Xerxes  invades  Greece.  Indecisive  actions  between  the 
Persian  and  Greek  fleets  at  Artemisium.  Destruction  of  the  three 
hundred  Spartans  at  Thermopylae.  The  Athenians  abandon 
Attica  and  go  on  shipboard.  Great  naval  victory  of  the  Greeks  at 
Salamis.  Xerxes  returns  to  Asia,  leaving  a  chosen  army  under 
Mardonius  to  carry  on  the  war  against  the  Greeks. 

478.  Mardonius  and  his  army  destroyed  by  the  Greeks  at  Pla- 
taea.  The  Greeks  land  in  Asia  Minor,  and  defeat  a  Persian  force 
at  Mycale.  In  this  and  the  following  years  the  Persians  lose  all 
their  conquests  in  Europe,  and  many  on  the  coast  of  Asia. 

477.  Many  of  the  Greek  maritime  states  take  Athens  as  their 
leader  instead  of  Sparta. 

466.  Victories  of  Cimon  over  the  Persians  at  the  Eurymedon. 

464.  Revolt  of  the  Helots  against  Sparta.  Third  Messenian 
■war. 

460.  Egypt  again  revolts  against  Persia.  The  Athenians  send  a 
powerful  armament  to  aid  the  Egyptians,  which,  after  gaining 
some  successes,  is  destroyed;  and  Egypt  submits.  This  war  lasted 
six  years. 

457.  Wars  in  Greece  between  the  Athenian  and  several  Pelopon- 
nesian  states.  Immense  exertions  of  Athens  at  this  time.  "  There 
is  an  original  inscription  still  preserved  in  the  Louvre  which  at- 
tests the  energies  of  Athens  at  this  crisis,  when  Athens,  like  Eng- 
land in  modern  wars,  at  once  sought  conquests  abroad  and  re- 
pelled enemies  at  home.     At  the  period  we  now  advert  to  (b.  c, 


STUOPSIS  OF  IlsTEBVEmNG  EVENTS.  39 

457),  an  Athenian  armament  of  t'wo  hundred  galleys  "was  engaged 
in  a  bold  thoiigh  -unsuccessfiil  expedition  against  Egypt.  The 
Athenian  crews  had  landed,  had  ■won  a  battle;  they  had  then  re- 
embarked  and  sailed  np  the  Nile,  and  were  busily  besieging  the 
Persian  garrison  at  Memphis.  As  the  complement  of  a  trireme 
galley  was  at  least  two  hundred  men,  we  can  not  estimate  the 
forces  then  employed  by  Athens  against  Egyjit  at  less  than  forty 
thousand  men.  At  the  same  time,  she  kept  squadrons  on  the 
coasts  of  Phenicia  and  Cyprus,  and  yet  maintained  a  home  fleet 
that  enabled  her  to  defeat  her  Peloponnesian  enemies  at  Cecp>'- 
phalffi  and  .^gina,  capturing  in  the  last  engagement  seventy  gal- 
leys. This  last  fact  may  give  us  some  idea  of  the  strength  of  the 
Athenian  home  fleet  that  gained  the  victory,  and  by  adopting  tbg 
same  ratio  of  multiplying  whatever  number  of  galleys  we  suppose 
to  have  been  emijloyed  by  two  hundred  so  as  to  gain  the  aggregate* 
number  of  the  crews,  we  may  form  some  estimate  of  the  foreec 
which  this  little  Greek  state  then  kept  on  foot.  Between  sixty 
and  seventy  thousand  men  must  have  served  in  her  fleets  during 
that  year.  Her  tenacity  of  purpose  was  equal  to  Ler  boldness  of 
enterprise.  Sooner  than  yield  or  withdraw  frorr,  aay  of  their  ex- 
peditions, the  Athenians  at  this  very  time,  wLdia  Corinth  sent  an 
army  to  attack  their  garrison  at  Megara  did  Lot  recall  a  single  crew 
or  a  single  soldier  from  .32gina  or  Irom  aJ^^-oad;  but  the  lads  and 
old  men,  who  had  been  left  to  guard  the  ^ity,  fought  and  won  a 
battle  against  these  new  assailants.  Tae  inscription  which  we 
have  referred  to  is  graven  on  a  votive  tal  let  to  the  memory  of  the 
dead,  erected  in  that  year  by  the  Erechthean  tribe,  one  of  the  ten 
into  which  the  Athenians  were  divided.  It  shows,  as  Thirlwall 
has  remarked,  'that  the  Athenians  were  conscioi;s  ol  the  greatness 
of  their  own  etfort;'  and  in  it  this  little  civic  community  of  the  an- 
cient world  still  'records  to  us  with  eioiphatic  simplicity,  that  its 
slain  fell  in  Cyprus,  in  Egypt,  in  Phenicia,  at  Halise.  in  .ffigina, 
in  Megara,  in  the  same  year.'  "* 

445.  A  thirty  years'  truce  concluded  between  Athens  and  Lac- 
edasmon. 

440.  The  Samians  endeavor  to  throw  off  the  supremacy  of 
Athens.  Samos  completely  reduced  to  subjection.  Pericles  is 
now  sole  director  of  the  Athenian  councils. 

431.  Commencement  of  the  great  Peloponnesian  war,  in  which 
Sparta,  at  the  head  of  nearly  all  the  Peloponnesian  states,  and 
aided  by  the  Baotians  and  some  of  the  other  Greeks  beyond  the 
Isthmus,  endeavors  to  reduce  the  power  of  Athens,  and  to  restore 
indeijendencc  to  the  Gireek  maritime  states  who  wore  the  subject 
allies  of  Athens.  At  the  commencement  of  the  war  the  Pelopon- 
nesian armies  repeatedly  invade  and  ravage  Attica,  but  Athens 

*  Pseans  of  tiie  Athenian  Kavy. 


40  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

herself  is  impregnable,  and  her  fleets  secure  her  the  dominion  of 
the  sea. 

430.  Athens  visited  by  a  pestilence,  which  sweeps  off  large  num- 
bers of  her  population. 

425.  The  Athenians  gain  great  advantages  over  the  Spartans  at 
Sphacteria,  and  by  occupying  Cythera;  hut  they  suffer  a  severe 
defeat  in  Bueotia,  and  the  Spartan  general,  Brasidas,  leads  an  ex- 
pedition to  the  Thracian  coasts,  and  conquers  many  of  the  most 
valuable  Athenian  possessions  in  those  regions. 

^21.  Nominal  truce  for  thirty  years  between  Athens  and  Sparta, 
but  hostilities  continue  on  the  Thracian  coast  and  in  other 
quarters. 

415.  The  Athenians  send  an  expedition  to  conquer  Sicily. 


CHAPTER  n. 

DEFEAT  OP  THE  ATHENIANS  AT   SYBACUSE,   B.  C.  413. 

The  ■Romans  knew  not,  and  could  not  know,  how  deeply  tlie  greatness  of 
their  own  posterity,  and  the  fate  of  the  whole  Western  world,  were  Involved 
In  the  destruction  of  the  fleet  of  Athens  In  the  harbor  of  Syracuse.  Had  that 
great  expedition  proved  victorious,  the  energies  of  Greece  during  the  next 
eventful  century  would  have  found  their  field  in  the  West  no  less  than  iu 
the  East;  Greece,  and  not  Rome,  might  have  conquered  Carthage;  Greek 
Instead  of  Latin  might  have  been  at  this  day  the  principal  element  of  the 
language  of  Spain,  of  France,  and  of  Italy ;  and  the  laws  of  Athens,  rather 
than  of  Kome,  might  toe  the  foundation  ol  the  law  of  the  civilized  world.— 
Arnold. 

Few  cities  have  undergone  more  memorable  sieges  during  an- 
cient and  medifBval  times  than  has  the  city  of  Syracuse.  Athen- 
ian, Carthaginian,  Roman,  Vandal,  Byzantine,  Saracen,  and 
Norman,  have  in  turns  beleagured  her  walls;  and  the  resistance 
which  she  successfully  opposed  to  some  of  her  early  assailants 
was  of  the  deepest  importance,  not  only  to  the  fortunes  of  the  gen- 
erations then  in  being,  but  to  all  the  subsequent  current  of  human 
events.  To  adopt  the  eloquent  exjjressions  of  Arnold  respecting 
the  check  which  she  gave  to  the  Carthaginian  arms,  "Syracuse 
was  a  breakwater  which  God's  providence  raised  up  to  protect 
the  yet  immature  strength  of  Rome."  And  her  triumphant  repulse 
of  the  great  Athenian  expedition  against  her  was  of  even  more 
wide-spread  and  enduring  importance.  It  forms  a  decisive  epoch 
in  the  strife  for  universal  empire,  in  which  all  the  great  states  of 
antiquity  successively  engaged  and  failed. 

The  present  city  of  Syracuse  is  a  place  of  little  or  no  military 
strength,  as  the  lire  of  artillery  from  the  neighboring  heights  would 
almost  completely  command  it.    But  in  ancient  warfare,  its  posi- 


DEFEAT  OF  THE  ATUEXIAA'S.  41 

tion,  and  tlis  care  bestowed  on  its  walls,  rendered  it  formidably 
strong  against  the  means  of  offense  which  then  were  employed  by 
besieging  armies. 

The  ancient  city,  in  its  most  prosperous  times,  was  chiefly 
built  on  the  knob  of  land  which  projects  into  the  sea  on  the  east- 
ern coast  of  Sicilj',  between  two  bays;  one  of  which,  to  the  north, 
was  called  the  Bay  of  Thapsus,  while  the  southern  one  formed  the 
great  harbor  of  the  city  of  Syraciase  itself.  A  small  island,  or  pe- 
ninsula (for  such  it  soon  was  rendered),  lies  at  the  south-eastern 
extremity  of  this  knob  of  land,  stretching  almost  entirely  across 
the  mouth  of  the  great  harbor,  and  rendering  it  nearly  land- 
locked. This  island  comprised  the  original  settlement  of  the  first 
Greek  colonists  from  Corinth,  who  founded  Syracuse  two  thousand 
iive  hundred  years  ago;  and  the  modern  city  has  shrunk  again 
into  these  primary  limits.  But,  in  the  fifth  century  before  our 
era,  the  growing  wealth  and  population  of  the  Syracusans  had  led 
them  to  occui^y  and  include  within  their  city  walls  portion  after 
portion  of  the  main  land  lying  next  to  the  little  isle,  so  that  at  the 
time  of  the  Athenian  expedition  the  seaward  part  of  the  land  be- 
tween the  two  bays  already  spoken  of  was  built  over,  and  fortified 
from  bay  to  bay,  and  constituted  the  larger  part  of  Syracuse. 

The  landward  wall,  the^^fore,  of  this  district  of  the  city,  trav- 
ersed this  knob  of  land,  whicli  continues  to  slope  upward  fiom 
the  sea,  and  which,  to  the  west  of  the  old  [fortifications  ( that  is 
toward  the  interior  of  Sicily),  rises  rapidly  for  a  mile  or  two, 
but  diminishes  in  width,  and  finally  terminates  in  a  long  narrow 
ridge,  between  which  and  Moi;nt  Hybla  a  succession  ol  chasms 
and  uneven  low  ground  extends.  On  each  flank  of  this  ridge 
the  descent  is  steep  and  precipitous  from  its  summits  to  the  strips 
of  level  land  that  lie  immediately  below  it,  both  to  the  south- 
west and  northwest. 

The  usual  mode  of  assailing  fortified  towns  in  the  time  of  the 
Peloponnesian  war  was  to  build  a  doiible  wall  round  them,  siif- 
ticiently  strong  to  check  any  sally  of  the  garrison  from  within,  or 
any  attack  of  a  relieving  force  from  without.  The  interval  with- 
in the  two  walls  of  the  circumvallation  was  roofed  over,  and 
formed  barracks,  in  which  the  besiegers  posted  themselves,  and 
awaited  the  effects  of  want  or  treachery  among  the  besieged  in 
jiroducing  a  surrender  ;  and,  in  every  Greek  city  of  those  days, 
as  in  every  Italian  reimblic  of  the  Middle  Ages,  the  rage  of  do- 
mestic sedition  between  aristocrats  and  democrats  ran  high. 
Rancorous  refugees  swarmed  in  the  camp  of  every  invading  en- 
emy ;  and  every  blockaded  city  was  sure  to  contain  within  its 
walls  a  body  of  intrigiiing  malcontents,  who  were  eager  to  pur- 
chase a  party  triumph  at  the  expense  of  a  national  disaster. 
Famine  and  faction  wore  the  allies  on  whom  besiegers  relied. 
The  generals  of  that  time  trusted  to  the  operation  of  these  sure 
confederates  as  soon  as  they  couid  establish  a  complete  blockade. 


42  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

They  rarely  ventured  en  the  attempt  to  storm  any  fortified  post, 
for  the  Military  engines  of  antiquity  were  feeble  in  breadiing 
masonry  before  the  improvements  which  the  first  Dionysius  ef- 
fected in  the  mechanics  of  destruction  ;  and  the  lives  of  spear- 
men the  boldest  and  most  high-trained  would,  of  course,  have 
been  idly  spent  in  charges  against  unshattered  walls. 

A  city  built  close  to  the  sea,  like  Syracuse,  was  impregnable, 
save  by  the  combined  oiDcrations  of  a  superior  hostile  fleet  and  a 
superior  hostile  army  ;  and  Syracuse,  from  her  size,  her  j^opu-j 
lation,  and  her  military  and  naval  resources,  not  unnaturally! 
thought  herself  secure  from  finding  in  another  Greek  city  a  foe 
capable  of  sending  a  sufticient  armament  to  menace  her  with 
capture  and  subjection.  But  in  the  spring  of  414  b.  c,  the  Athen- 
ian navy  was  mistress  of  her  harbor  and  the  adjacent  seas ;  an 
Athenian  army  had  defeated  her  troops,  and  cooped  them  with- 
in the  town  ;  and  from  bay  to  bay  a  blockading  wall  was  being 
rapidly  carried  across  the  strips  of  level  ground  and  the  high 
ridge  outside  the  city  (then  termed  EpipolcE),  which,  if  completed, 
would  have  cut  the  Syracusans  off  from  all  succor  from  the  inter- 
ior of  Sicily,  and  have  left  them  at  the  mercy  of  the  Athenian 
generals.  The  besiegers'  works  were,  indeed,  unfinished  ;  but 
every  day  the  unfortified  interval  in  their  lines  grew  narrower, 
and  with  it  diminished  all  apparent  hope  of  safety  for  the  be- 
leagured  town. 

Athens  was  now  staking  the  flower  of  her  forces,  and  the  ac- 
cumulated fruits  of  seventy  years  of  glory,  on  one  bold  throw  for 
the  dominion  of  the  "Western  world.  As  Napoleon  from  Mount 
Cceur  de  Lion  pointed  to  St.  Jean  dAcre,  and  told  his  staff  that 
the  capture  of  that  town  would  decide  his  destiny  and  would 
change  the  face  of  the  world,  so  the  Athenian  officers,  from  the 
heights  of  Epipolaj,  must  have  looked  on  Syracuse,  "and  felt  that 
with  its  fall  all  the  known  powers  of  the  earth  would  fall  be- 
neath them.  They  must  have  felt,  also,  that  Athens,  if  repulsed 
there,  miist  pause  forever  from  her  career  of  conquest,  and  sink 
from  an  imperial  republic  into  a  ruined  and  subservient  commu- 
nity. 

At  Marathon,  the  first  in  date  of  the  great  battles  of  the  world, 
we  beheld  Athens  struggling  for  self-preservation  against  the  in- 
vading armies  of  the  East.  At  Syracuse  she  appears  as  the 
ambitious  and  oppressive  invader  of  others.  In  her,  as  in  other 
republics  of  old  and  of  modern  times,  the  same  energy  that  had 
inspired  the  most  heroic  efibrts  in  defense  of  the  national  indepen- 
dence, soon  learned  to  employ  itself  in  daring  and  unscn^pulous 
schemes  of  self-aggrandizement  at  the  expense  of  neighboring 
nations.  In  the  interval  between  the  Persian  and  the  Pelponnesian 
wars  she  had  rapidly  grown  into  a  conquering  and  dominant  state, 
the  chief  of  a  thousand  tributary  cities,  and  the  mistress  of  the 
largest  and  best-manned  navy  that  the  Mediterranean  had  yet 


DEFEAT  OF  TEE  ATHENIANS.  'i3 

beheld.  The  occupations  of  her  territory  by  Xerxes  and  Mar- 
donius,  in  the  second  Persian  war,  had  forced  her  -whole  popula- 
tion to  become  mariners;  and  the  glorious  results  ot  that  struggle 
contirmed  them  in  their  zeal  for  their  coiintry's  service  at  sea. 
The  voluntary  suffrage  of  the  Greek  cities  of  the  coasts  and  islands 
of  the  iEgffian  first  placed  Athens  at  the  head  of  the  confederation 
formed  for  the  further  prosecution  of  the  war  against  Persia.  But 
this  titular  ascendency  was  soon  converted  by  her  into  practical 
and  arbitrary  dominion.  She  protected  them  from  piracy  and 
the  Persian  power,  which  soon  fell  into  decrepitude  and  decay, 
but  she  exacted  in  return  implicit  obedience  to  herself.  She 
claimed  and  enforced  a  prerogative  of  taxing  them  at  her  dis- 
cretion, and  proudly  refused  to  be  accountable  for  her  mode  of 
expending  their  suj^plies.  Eemonstrance  against  her  assessments 
was  treated  as  factious  disloyalty,  and  refusal  to  paj"  was  promptly 
punished  as  revolt.  Permitting  and  encouraging  her  subject 
allies  to  furnish  all  their  contingents  in  monej^  instead  of  part 
consisting  of  ships  and  men,  the  sovereign  republic  gained  the 
double  object  of  training  her  own  citizens  by  constant  and  well- 
paid  service  in  her  fleets,  and  of  seeing  her  confederates  lose  their 
skill  and  discipline  by  inaction,  and  become  more  and  more  pas- 
sive and  powerless  under  her  yoke.  Their  towns  were  generally 
dismantled,  while  the  imperial  city  herself  was  fortified  with  the 
greatest  care  and  sumptuousness;  the  accumulated  revenues  from 
her  tributaries  serving  to  strengthen  and  adorn  to  the  utmost  her 
havens,  her  docks,  her  arsenals,  her  theaters  and  her  shrines,  and 
to  array  her  in  that  plentitude  of  architectural  magnificence,  the 
ruins  of  which  still  attest  the  intellectual  grandeur  of  the  age  and 
people  which  produced  a  Pericles  to  plan  and  a  Phidias  to  execute. 
All  republics  that  acquire  supremacy  over  other  nations  rule 
them  selfishly  and  oppressively.  There  is  no  exception  to  this  in 
either  ancient  or  modern  times.  Carthage,  Pome,  Venice,  Genoa, 
Florence,  Pisa,  Holland,  and  Pepubli^an  France,  all  tyrannized 
over  every  province  and  subject  state  where  they  gained  authority. 
Put  none  of  them  openly  avowed  their  sj^stem  of  doing  so  upon 
principle  with  the  candor  which  the  Athenian  republicans  dis- 
played when  any  remonstrance  was  made  against  the  severe  ex- 
actions which  they  imposed  upon  their  vassal  allies.  They  avowed 
that  their  empire  was  a  tyranny,  and  frankly  stated  that  they 
solely  trusted  to  force  and  tei-ror'to  xiphoid  it.  They  appealed  to 
what  they  called  "  the  eternal  law  of  nature,  that  the  weak  should 
be  coerced  by  the  strong."*  Sometimes  they  stated,  and  not  with- 
out some  truth,  that  the  unjust  hatred  of  Sparta  against  themselves 
forced  them  to  be  unjust  to  others  in  self-defense.  To  be  safe, 
they  must  be  powerful;  and  to  be  powerful,, they  must  plunder 

*  ^AeI  HaO£dr(^roi  roi  jjddao  vTto  dvvarcore'pov  xareipyedOat. 
Tnrc,  I.,  T7. 


44  DK-ClBlVE  BATTLES. 

and  coerce  their  neighbors.  They  never  dreamed  of  commnnicat- 
ing  any  franchise,  or  share  in  office,  to  their  dependents,  but 
iealousy  monopolized  every  post  of  command,  and  ail  political 
and  judicial  power;  exposing  themselves  to  every  risk  v\ith  un- 
flinching gallantry;  embarking  readily  in  every  ambitious  scheme; 
and  never  suffering  difficulty  or  disaster  to  shake  their  tenacity  of 
purpose:  in  the  hope  of  acqiiiring  unbounded  empire  for  their 
country,  and  the  means  of  maintaining  each  of  the  thirty  thousand 
citizens  who  made  up  the  sovereign  republic,  in  exchasive  devo- 
tion to  military  occuf)ations,  and  to  those  brilliant  sciences  and 
arts  in  which  Athens  already  had  reached  the  meridian  of  intel- 
lectual splendor. 

Her  great  political  dramatist  speaks  of  the  Athenian  empire  as 
comprehending  a  thousand  states.  The  language  of  the  stage 
must  not  be  taken  too  literally;  but  the  number  of  the  dependen- 
cies of  Athens,  at  the  time  when  the  Peloponnesian  confederacy 
attacked  her,  was  undoubtedly  very  great.  "With  a  few  trifling 
exceptions,  all  the  islands  of  the  .ai^ga^an,  and  all  the  Greek  cities, 
which  in  that  age  fringed  the  coasts  of  Asia  Minor,  the  Hellespont 
and  Thrace,  paid  tribute  to  Athens,  and  implicitly  obeyed  her 
orders.  The  J3ga?an  Sea  was  an  Attic  lake.  Westward  of  Greece, 
her  influence,  though  strong,  was  not  equally  predominant.  She 
had  colonies  and  allies  among  the  wealthy  and  populous  Greek 
settlements  in  Sicily  and  South  Italy,  but  she  had  no  organized 
system  of  confederates  in  those  regions;  and  her  galleys  brought 
her  no  tribute  from  the  AVestern  seas.  The  extension  of  her  em- 
pire over  Sicily  was  the  favorite  project  of  her  ambitioiis  orators 
and  generals.  "While  her  great  statesman,  Pericles,  lived,  his  com- 
manding genius  ke2:»t  his  countrymen  under  control,  and  forbade 
them  to  risk  the  fortunes  of  Athens  in  distant  enterin-ises,  while 
they  had  unsubdn  xl  and  powerful  enemies  at  their  own  doors. 
He  taught  Athens  this  maxim;  biit  he  also  taught  her  to  know  and 
to  use  her  own  strength,  and  when  Pericles  had  departed,  the  bold 
B^Dirit  which  he  had  fostered  overleaped  the  sahitary  limits  which 
he  had  iDrescribed.  When  her  bitterest  enemies,  the  Corinthians, 
succeeded,  in  431  b.  c,  in  inducing  Sj^arta  to  attack  her,  and  a 
confederacy  was  formed  of  five-sixths  of  the  continental  Greeks, 
all  animated  by  anxious  jealousy  and  bitter  hatred  of  Athens; 
when  armies  far  siiperior  in  numbers  and  equii^ment  to  those 
which  had  marched  against  the  Persians  were  poured  into  the 
Athenian  territory,  and  laid  it  waste  to  the  city  walls,  the  general 
opinion  was  that  Athens  would  be  reduced,  in  two  or  three  years 
at  the  farthest,  to  submit  to  the  reqi;isitions  other  invaders.  But 
her  strong  fortifications,  by  w'hich  she  was  girt  and  linked  to  her 
principal  haven,  gave  her,  in  those  ages,  almost  all  the  advantages 
of  an  insular  position.  Pericles.had  made  her  trust  to  her  empire 
of  the  seas.  Every  Athenian  in  those  days  was  a  practiced  sea- 
man.    A  state,  indeed,  whose  members,  of  an  ago  fit  for  service, 


DEFEAT  OF  THE  ATHENIANS.  45 

at  no  time  exceeded  thirty  thousand,  and  -whose  territorial  extent 
did  not  equal  half  Sussex,  could  only  have  acquired  such  a  naval 
dominion  as  Athens  once  lield,  by  clevoting,  and  zealously  train- 
ing, all  its  sons  to  service  in  its  fleets.  In  order  to  man  the  numer- 
ous galleys  -svhich  she  sent  out,  she  necessarily  employed  large 
numbers  of  hired  mariners  and  slaves  at  the  oar;  but  the  staple o\' 
her  crews  was  Athenian,  and  all  posts  of  command  were  held  by 
native  citizens.  It  was  by  reminding  them  of  this,  of  their  long 
practice  in  seamanship,  and  the  certain  superiority  which  their 
discipline  gave  them  over  the  enemy's  marine,  that  their  great 
minister  mainly  encouraged  them  to  resist  the  combined  poMer  of 
Laceda^mon  and  her  allies.  He  taught  them  that  Athens  might 
thus  real)  the  fruit  of  her  zealous  devotion  to  maritime  aflairs 
ever  since  the  invasion  of  the  Medes;  "  she  had  not,  indeed,  per- 
fected herself;  but  the  reward  of  her  superior  training  was  the 
nile  of  the  sea— a  mighty  dominion,  for  it  gave  her  the  rule  of 
much  fair  land  beyond  its  waves,  safe  from  the  idle  ravages  with 
which  the  Lacedaemonians  might  harass  Attica,  but  never  could 
subdue  Athens.''* 

Athens  accepted  the  war  wioh  which  her  enemies  threatened  her 
rather  than  descend  from  her  jiride  of  jjlace;  and  though  the  aw- 
ful visitation  of  the  Plague  came  upon  her,  and  swept  away  more 
of  her  citizens  than  the  Dorian  spear  laid  low,  she  held  her  own 
gallantly  against  her  enemies.  If  the  Peloponnesian  armies  in  ir- 
resistible strength  wasted  every  spring,  her  cornlands,  her  vine- 
yards, and  her  olive  groves  with  fire  and  svrord,  she  retaliated  on 
their  coasts  with  her  fleets;  which,  if  resisted,  were  only  resisted 
to  display  the  pre-eminent  skill  and  bravery  of  her  seamen.  Soma 
of  her  subject  allies  revolted,  but  the  revolts  were  in  general  stern- 
ly and  promptly  quelled.  The  genius  of  one  enemy  had  indeed 
inflictetl  blows  on  her  power  in  Thrace  which  she  v  as  unable  to 
remedy ;  but  he  fell  in  battle  in  the  tenth  year  of  the  war,  and 
with  the  loss  of  Brasidas  the  Lacedcemonians  seemed  to  have  lost 
all  energy  and  judgment.  Both  sides  at  length  grew  weary  of  the 
war,  and  in  421  a  truce  for  fifty  years  was  concluded,  which,  thoiigh 
ill  kept,  and  though  many  of  the  confederates  of  Sparta  refused 
to  recognize  it,  and  hostilities  still  continued  in  many  parts  of 
Greece,  protected  the  Athenian  territory  from  the  ravages  of  ene- 
mies, and  enabled  Athens  to  accumulate  large  sums  outof  thepro= 
ceeds  other  annual  revenues.  So  also,  as  a  few  years  passed  by, 
the  havoc  which  the  pestilence  and  the  sword  had  made  in  her 
population  was  repaired;  and  in  415  b.  c.  Athens  was  full  of  bold 
and  restless  spirits,  -who  longed  for  some  field  of  distant  enterprise 
wherein  they  might  signalize  themselves  and  apgrandiz6  the  state, 
and  who  looked  on  the  alarm  of  Spartan  hostility  as  a  mere  old 
woman's  tale.     When  Sparta  had  wasted  their  territory  she  had 

*  Thuc,  Ub.  1.;  sec.  144. 


4G  DECISIVE  BATTLEb'. 

donelier  t^'orst;  nncl  thefact  of  its  al-vsays  bring  in  her  power  to 
do  so  seemed  a  strorg  reason  lor  seeking  to  increase  the  traus-ma- 
rine  dominion  of  Athens. 

The  West  ^vas  now  the  quarter  toward  which  the  thoughts  of 
every  aspiring  Athenian  were  directed.  From  the  very  beginning 
of  the  war  Athens  had  kept  np  an  interest  in  Sicily,  and  her  squad- 
ron had,  from  time  to  time,  appeared  on  its  coasts  and  taken  part 
in  the  dissensions  in  which  the  Sicilian  Greeks  were  universally 
engaged  one  against  each  other.  There  were  plausible  grounds  for 
a  direct  quarrel,  and  an  open  attack  by  the  Athenians  upon  Syracuse. 

With  the  capture  of  Syracuse,  all  Sicily,  it  was  hoped,  would 
be  secured.  Carthage  and  Italy  were  next  to  be  attacked.  With 
large  levies  of  Iberian  mercenaries  she  then  meant  to  overwhelm 
her  Pcloponnesian  enemies.  The  Persian  monarchy  lay  in  hope- 
less imbecility,  inviting  Greek  invasion  ;  nor  did  the  known  world 
contain  the  power  that  seemed  capable  of  checking  the  growing 
might  of  Athens,  if  Syracuse  once  could  be  hers. 

The  national  historian  of  Eome  has  left  us  an  episode  of  his 
great  work,  a  disquisition  on  the  probable  effects  that  would  have 
followed  if  Alexander  the  Great  had  invaded  Italy._  Posterity  has 
generally  regarded  that  disquisition  as  proving  Livy's  patriotism 
more  strongly  than  his  impartiality  or  acuteness.  Yet,  right  or 
wrong,  the  speculations  of  the  Koman  writer  were  directed  to  the 
considerations  of  a  very  remote  possibility.  To  whatever  age 
Alexander's  life  might  have  been  prolonged,  the  East  would  have 
furnished  full  occupation  for  his  martial  ambition,  as  well  as  for 
those  schemes  of  commercial  grandeur  and  imperial  amalgama- 
tion of  nations  in  which  the  truly  great  qualities  of  his  mind 
loved  to  display  themselves.  With  his  death  the  dismemberment 
of  his  empire  among  his  generals  y  as  certain,  even  as  the  dismem- 
berment of  Napoleon  s  empire  among  his  marshals  would  cer- 
tainly have  ensued  if  he  had  been  cut  off  in  the  zenith  of  his 
power.  Eome,  also,  was  far  weaker  when  the  Athenians  were  in 
Sicily  than  she  was  a  century  afterwards  in  Alexander's  time. 
There  can  be  little  doubt  but  that  Eome  would  have  been  blotted 
out  from  the  independent  powers  of  the  W^est,  had  she  been  at- 
tacked at  the  end  of  the  fiith  century  b.c.  by  an  Athenian  army, 
largely  aided  by  Spanish  mercenaries,* and  flushed  with  triiimphs 
over  Sicily  and  Africa,  instead  of  the  collision  between  her  and 
Greece  having  been  deferred  until  the  latter  had  sunk  into 
decrepitude,  and  the  Eoman  Mais  had  grown  into  full  vigor. 

The  armament  which  the  Athenians  equipped  against  Syracuse 
was  in  every  way  worthy  of  the  state  which  formed  such  projects 
of  universal  empire,  and  it  has  been  truly  termed  "the  noblest 
that  ever  yet  had  been  set  forth  by.  a  free  and  civilized  common- 
wealth."*   The   fleet   consisted    of  one  hundred  and  thirty-four 


*  Arnold's  "Elstory  of  Eome." 


DEFEAT  OF  TEE  ATHENIANS.  47 

war-galleys,  with  a  multitude  of  store-ships.  A  powerful  force  of 
the  best  heavy-armed  infantry  that  Athens  and  her  allies  could 
furnish  was  sent  on  board  it,  together  with  a  smaller  number  ol 
slingers  and  bowmt-n.  The  quality  of  the  forces  was  even  more 
remarkable  than  the  number.  The  zeal  of  individuals  vied  with 
that  of  the  republic  in  giving  every  galley  the  best  possible  crew, 
and  every  troop  the  most  perfect  accouterments .  And  with  pri- 
vate as  well  as  public  wealth  eagerly  lavished  on  all  that  could 
give  splendor  as  well  as  efficiency  to  the  expedition,  the  fated 
fleet  began  its  voyage  for  the  Sicilian  shores  in  the  summer  of 
415. 

The  Syracusans  themselves,  at  the  time  of  the  Peloponnesian 
war,  were  a  bold  and  turbulent  democracy,  tyrannizing  over  the 
weaker  Greek  cities  in  Sicily,  and  trying  to  gam  in  that  island  the 
same  arbitrary  supremacy  which  .Ithms  maintained  aiong  the 
eastern  coast  of  the  Mediterranean.  In  numbers  and  in  spirit 
they  were  fully  eqiial  to  the  Athenians,  but  far  inferior  to  them, 
in  militaiy  and  naval  discipline.  When  the  probability  of  an 
Athenian  invasion  was  first  publicly  discussed  at  Syracuse,  and 
eflbrts  were  made  by  some  of  the  wiser  citizens  to  imxjrove  the 
state  of  the  national  defenses,  and  prepare  for  the  impending 
danger,  the  rumors  of  coming  war  and  the  proposal  for  preparation 
were  received  by  the  mass  of  the  Syracusans  with  scornful  in- 
credulity. The  speech  of  one  of  their  popular  orators  is  pre- 
served to  us  in  Thucydides,*  and  many  of  its  topics  might,  by  a 
slight  alteration  of  names  and  details,  serve  admirably  for  the 
party  among  ourselves  at  jaresent,  which  opposes  the  augmenta- 
tion of  our  forces,  and  derides  the  idea  of  our  being  in  any  peril 
from  the  sudden  attack  of  a  French  expedition.  The  Syracusan 
orator  told  his  countrymen  to  dismiss  with  scorn  the  visionary 
terrors  which  a  set  of  designing  men  among  themselves  strove 
to  excite,  in  order  to  get  power  and  influence  thrown  into  their 
own  hands.  He  told  them  that  Athens  knew  her  own  interest 
too  well  to  think  of  wantonly  provoking  their  hostility  :  "Even  if 
their  enemies  were  to  come,"  said  he,  ''so  distant  from  their  resources, 
and  opposed  to  such  a  power  as  ours,  their  destruction  would  be^  easy 
and  inevitable.  Their  ships  will  have  enough  to  do  to  get  to  our  island 
at  all,  and  to  carry  such  stores  of  all  sorts  as  will  be  needed.  They 
cannot  therefore  carry,  besides,  an  army  large  enough  to  cope  with  such 
a  population  as  ours.  They  will  have  no  fortified  place  from  which  to 
commence  their  operations,  but  must  rest  them  on  no  better  base  than  a 
set  of  wretched  tents,  and  such  means  as  the  necessities  of  the  moment 
vill  allow  them.  But,  in  truth,  1  do  not  believe  that  they  loould  even  be 
able  to  effect  a  disembarkation.  Let  us,  therefore,  set  at  naught  these 
reports  as  altogether  of  home  manufacture;  and  be  sure  if  any  enemy 

*  Lib.  vl.,  sec.  36,  e(  scq..  Arnold's  edition.    I  have  almost  literally  trail' 
scilbed  some  ol  tlie  jaarjjlnal  erltomes  ol  the  original  speecli. 


48  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

does  come,  the  sMe  wiU  know  how  to  defend  itself  in  a  manner  worthy 
of  the  national  honor." 

Such  assertions  pleased  the  Syraciisan  assembly,  and  their 
counterparts  find  favor  now  among  some  portion  of  the  English 
public.  But  the  invaders  of  Syracuse  came;  made  good  their 
landing  in  Sicily;  and,  if  they  had  promptly  attacked  the  city 
itself,  instead  of  wasting  nearly  a  year  in  desultory  operations  in 
other  parts  of  Sicily,  the  Syracirsans  must  have  paid  the  penalty 
of  their  self-sufficient  carelessness  in  submission  to  the  Athenian 
joke.  But,  of  the  three  generals  who  led  the  Athenian  expedition, 
two  only  were  men  of  ability,  and  one  was  most  weak  and  incom- 
petent. 

Fortunately  for  Syracuse,  Alcibiades,  the  most  skilful  of  the 
three,  was  soon  deposed  from  his  command  by  a  factioiis  and 
fanatic  vote  of  his  fellow-countrymen,  and  the  other  comjjetent 
one,  Lamachiis,  fell  early  in  a  skirmish;  while,  more  fortunately 
still  for  her,  the  feeble  and  vacillating  Nicias  remained  unrecalled 
and  unhurt,  to  assume  the  undivided  leadership  of  the  Athenian 
army  and  fleet,  and  to  mar,  by  alternate  over-caution  and  over- 
carelessness,  every  chance  of  success  which  the  early  part  of  the 
operations  offered.  Still,  even  under  him,  the  Athenians  nearly 
won  the  town.  They  defeated  the  raw  levies  of  the  Syracusans, 
cooped  them  within  the  M'alls,  and,  as  before  mentioned,  almost 
effected  a  continuous  fortification  from  bay  to  bay  over  Epipolae, 
the  completion  of  which  would  certainly  have  been  followed  by  a 
capitulation. 

Alcibiades,  the  most  complete  example  ef  genius  without  prin. 
ciple  that  history  produces,  the  Bolingbroke  of  antiquity,  but  with 
high  military  talents  superadded  to  diplomatic  and  oratorical 
powers,  on  being  summoned  home  from  his  command  in  Sicily  to 
take  his  trial  before  the  Athenian  tribunal,  had  escaped  to  Sparta, 
and  had  exerted  himself  there  with  all  the  selfish  rancor  of  a  rene- 
gade to  renew  the  war  with  Athens,  and  to  send  instant  assistance 
to  Syracuse. 

When  we  read  his  words  in  the  pages  of  Thucydides  (who  was 
himself  an  exile  from  Athens  at  this  period,  and  may  probably 
have  been  at  Sparta,  and  heard  Alcibiades  speak),  we  are  at  a  loss 
whether  most  to  admire  or  abhor  his  subtle  and  traitorous  counsels. 
After  an  artful  exordium,  in  which  he  tried  to  disarm  the  suspic- 
ions which  he  felt  must  be  entertained  of  him  and  to  point  out  to 
the  Spartans  how  completely  his  interests  and  theirs  were  identi- 
fied, through  hatred  of  the  Athenian  democracy,  he  thus  jjro- 
ceeded: 

"  Hear  me,  at  any  rate,  on  the  matters  which  require  your  grave 
attention,  and  which  T,  from  the  personal  knowledge  that  I  have 
of  them,  can  and  ought  to  bring  before  you.  We  Athenians  sailed 
to  Sicily  with  the  design  of  subduing,  first  the  Greek  cities  there, 
and  next  those  in  Italy.     Then  we  intended  to  make  an  attempt 


BEFEA  T  OF  TUB  A  THEmANS.  4  9 

on  tlie  dominions  of  Carthago,  and  on  Carthage  itself.*  If  all 
these  projects  succeeded  (nor  did  we  limit  ourselves  to  them  in 
these  quarters),  we  intended  to  increase  our  fleet  with  the  inex- 
haustible supplies  of  ship  timber  which  Italy  affords,  to  put  in  re- 
quisition the  whole  military  force  of  the  conqiiered  Greek  states, 
and  also  to  hire  large  armies  of  the  barbarians,  of  the  Iberiansf 
and  others  in  these  regions,  who  are  allowed  to  make  the  best  pos- 
sible soldiers.  Then,  when  we  had  done  all  this,  we  intended  to 
assail  Peloponnesus  with  our  collected  force.  Our  fleets  would 
blockade  you  by  sea,  and  desolate  your  coasts,  our  armies  would 
be  landed  at  different  points  and  assail  your  cities.  Some  of 
these  we  expected  to  storm,  J  and  others  we  meant  to  take  by  sur- 
rounding them  with  fortified  lines.  We  thought  that  it  would 
thus  be  an  easy  matter  thoroughly  to  war  you  down ;  and  then  we 
should  become  the  masters  of  the  whole  Greek  race.  As  for  ex- 
pense, we  reckoned  that  each  conquered  state  would  give  us 
supplies  of  money  and  provisions  sufficient  to  pay  for  its  own 
conquest,  and  furnish  the  means  for  the  conquest  of  its  neighbors. 
"  yuch  are  the  designs  of  the  present  Athenian  expedition  to 
Sicily,  and  you  have  heard  them  from  the  lij^s  of  the  man  who,  of 
all  men  living,  is  most  accurately  acquainted  with  them.  The 
other  Athenian  generals,  who  remain  with  the  expedition,  will 
endeavor  to  can-y  out  these  plans.  And  be  sure  that  without  your 
speedy  interference  they  will  all  be  accomi^lished.  The  Sicilian 
Greeks  are  deficient  in  military  training;  but  still,  if  they  couJd 
at  once  be  brought  to  combine  in  an  organized  resistance  to  Athens, 
they  might  even  now  be  saved.  But  as  for  the  Syracusans  resist- 
ing Athens  by  themselves,  they  have  already,  with  the  whole 
strength  of  their  population,  fought  a  battle  and  been  beaten;  they 
cannot  face  the  Athenians  at  sea;  and  it  is  quite  impossible  for 
them  to  hold  out  against  the  force  of  their  invaders.  And  if  this 
city  falls  into  the  hands  of  the  Athenians,  all  Sicily  is  theirs,  and 
presently  Italy  also;  and  the  danger,  which  I  warned  you  of  from 
that  quarter,  will  soon  fall  upon  yourselves.  You  must,  therefore, 
in  Sicily,  fight  for  the  safety  of  Peloponnesus.  Send  some  galleys 
thither  instantly.  Put  men  on  board  who  can  work  their  own 
way    over,  and    who,    as  soon  as    they    land,   can  do    duty    as 

*  ArnoM,  in  his  notes  on  this  passage,  well  reminds  the  reader  that 
Agathocles,  \\ith  a  Greek  force  far  inferior  to  tliat  of  the;  Athenians  at  this 
period,  did,  some  years  aftenvard,  very  nearly  conquer  caithage. 

t  It  ^vill  be  remembered  that  Spanisli  infantry  were  tlie  staple  of  the 
Carthaginian  arniics.  Doubtless  Alciblades  and  other  leading  Athenians 
had  made  themselves  acquainted  with  tlu;  C'arlhugliiian  system  of  cariying 
on  war,  and  meant  to  adopt  it.  Wii  li  the  niai  vcious  powers  which  Alcibl- 
ades possfssed  of  ingratiating  himself  with  the  men  of  every  class  and  every 
nation  and  his  higli  mlUtarj'  genius,  he  would  have  been  as  lomndable  a 
chief  of  an  army  of  cnndoUieri  as  ilannlbal  afUn-ward  was. 

t  Alciblades  here  alluded  to  Sparta  itself,  which  was  unfortified.  ITls 
Spartan  hearers  must  have  glanced  round  them  at  these  words  ^\•ith  mixed 
alarm  aad  indignation. 


50     •  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

regular  troops.  But,  above  all,  let  one  of  yourselves,  let  a  man  of 
Sparta  go  over  to  take  the  chief  command,  to  bring  into  order  and 
effective  discipline  the  forces  that  are  in  Syracuse,  and  urge  those 
who  at  present  hang  back  to  come  forward  and  aid  the  Syracusans. 
The  presence  of  a  Spartan  general  at  this  crisis  will  do  more  to 
save  the  city  than  a  whole  army."*  The  renegade  then  proceeded 
to  urge  on  them  the  necessity  of  encouraging  their  friends  in 
Sicilj^  by  showing  that  they  themselves  were  in  earnest  in  hostility 
to  Athens.  He  exhorted  them  not  only  to  march  their  armies  into 
Attica  again,  but  to  take  up  a  permanent  fortified  position  in  the 
country;  v>iit  he  gave  them  in  detail  information  of  all  that  the 
Athenians  most  dreaded,  aitfl  how  his  country  might  receive  the 
most  distressing  and  enduring  injiiry  at  their  hands. 

The  Spartans  resolved  to  act  on  his  advice,  and  api)ointed 
Gylippus  to  the  Sicilian  command.  Gylippus  was  a  man  who, 
to  the  national  bravery  and  military  skill  of  a  Spartan,  united 
political  sagacity  that  was  worthy  of  his  great  fellow-countryman 
Brasidas;  but  his  merits  were  debased  by  mean  and  sordid  vices; 
and  his  is  one  of  the  cases  in  which  history  has  been  austerely 
just,  and  where  little  or  no  fame  has  been  accorded  to  the  success- 
ful but  venal  soldier.  But  for  the  purpose  for  which  he  was 
required  in  Sicily,  an  abler  man  could  not  have  been  found  in 
Lacediiemon.  His  country  gave  him  neither  men  nor  money,  but 
she  gave  him  her  authority  ;  and  the  influence  of  her  name  and 
of  his  own  talents  was  speedily  seen  in  the  zeal  with  which  the 
Corinthians  and  other  Peloponnesian  Greeks  began  to  equip  a 
sqaudron  to  act  under  him  for  the  rescue  of  Sicily.  As  soon  as 
four  galleys  were  ready,  he  hurried  over  with  them  to  the  southern 
coast  of  Italy,  and  there,  though  he  received  such  evil  tidings  of 
the  state  of  Syracuse  that  he  abandoned  all  hope  of  saving  that 
city,  he  determined  to  remain  on  the  coast,  and  do  what  he  could 
in  preserving  the  Italian  cities  from  the  Athenians. 

So  nearly,  indeed,  had  Nicias  completed  his  beleaguering  lines, 
and  so  utterly  desperate  had  the  state  of  Syracuse  seemingly  be- 
come, that  an  assembly  of  the  Sj'racusans  was  actually  convened, 
and  they  were  discussing  the  terms  on  which  they  should  offer  to 
capitulate,  when  a  galley  was  seen  dashing  into  the  great  harbor, 
and  making  her  way  toward  the  town  with  all  the  speed  which  her 
rowers  could  supply.  From  her  shunning  the  jiart  of  the  harbor, 
where  the  Athenian  fleet  lay,  and  making  straight  for  the  Syra-i 
cusan  side,  it  was  clear  that  she  was  a  friend  ;  the  enemy's 
cruisers,  careless  through  contidence  of  success,  made  no  attempt 
to  cut  her  off ;  she  touched  the  beach,  and  a  Corinthian  captain, 
springing  on  shore  from  her,  was  eagerly  conducted  to  the  assem- 
bly of  the  Syracusan  people  just  in  time  to  prevent  the  fatal  vote 
being  put  for  a  surrender. 

*  Thuc,  lib.  vl.,  sec.  90,  91. 


DEFEAT  OF  THE  ATHENIANS.  51 

ProTicTentially  for  Syracuse,  Gongyhis,  the  commander  of  the 
galley,  had  been  prevented  by  an  Athenian  squadron  from  follow- 
ii^g  tiyliijpus  to  South  Italy,  and  he  had  been  obliged  to  push 
direct  for  Syracuse  from  Greece. 

The  sight  of  actual  succor,  and  the  promise  of  more,  revived  the 
drooping  spirits  of  the  Syracusans.  They  felt  that  they  were  not 
left  desolate  to  perish,  and  the  tidings  that  a  Spartan  was  coming 
to  command  them  confirmed  their  resolution  to  continue  their 
resistance.  Gylippus  was  already  near  the  city.  He  had  learned 
at  Locri  that  the  first  report  which  had  reached  him  of  the  state 
of  Syracuse  was  exaggerated,  and  that  there  was  unfinished  space 
in  the  besiegers'  lines  through  which  it  was  barely  possible  to  in- 
troduce re-enforcements  into  the  town.  Crossing  the  Straits  of 
Messina,  which  the  culpable  negligence  of  Nicias  had  left  un- 
guarded, Gylippus  landed  on  the  northern  coast  of  Sicily,  and 
there  began  to  collect  from  the  Greek  cities  an  army,  of  which  the 
regular  troops  that  he  brought  from  Peloponnesus  formed  the 
nucleus.  Such  was  the  influence  of  the  name  of  Sparta,*  and 
such  were  his  own  abilities  and  activity,  that  he  succeeded  in 
raising  a  force  of  about  two  thousand  fully-armed  infantry,  with 
a  larger  number  of  irregular  troops.  Nicias,  as  if  infatuated, 
made  no  attempt  to  counteract  his  operations,  nor,  when  Gylippus 
marched  his  little  army  toward  Syracuse,  did  the  Athenian  com- 
mander endeavor  to  check  him.  The  Syracusans  marched  out  to 
meet  him  ;  and  while  the  Athenians  were  solely  intent  on  com- 
pleting their  fortifications  on  the  southern  side  toward  the  harbor, 
Gylippus  turned  their  position  by  occupying  the  high  ground  in 
the  extreme  rear  of  Epipolae.  He  then  marched  through  the  un- 
fortified interval  of  Nicias's  lines  into  the  besieged  town,  and  join- 
ing his  tropins  with  the  Syracusan  forces,  after  some  engagements 
with  varying  success,  gained  the  mastery  over  Nicias,  drove  the 
Athenians  from  EpipoL-e,  and  hemmed  them  into  a  disadvantage- 
ous position  in  the  low  grounds  near  the  great  harbor. 

The  attention  of  all  Greece  was  now  fixed  on  Syracuse;  and 
every  enemy  of  Athens  felt  the  importance  of  the  opportunity  now- 
offered  of  checking  her  ambition,  and,  perhaps,  of  striking  a 
deadly  blow  at  her  power.  Large  re-enforcements  from  Corinth, 
Thebes,  and  other  cities  now  reached  the  Syracusans,  while  the 
baffled  and  dispirited  Athenian  general  earnestly  besought  his 
countrymen  to  recall  him,  and  represented  the  further  prosecu- 
tion of  the  siege  as  hopeless. 

But  Athens  had  made  it  a  maxim  never  to  let  difficulty  or  dis- 
aster drive  her  back  from  any  enterprise  once  undertaken,  so  long 
as  she  possessed  the  means  of  making  any  effort,  however  dcsper- 

*  The  effect  of  the  presence  of  a  Spartan  officer  on  tlie  troops  of  the  other 
Greeks  seems  to  have  been  Uke  the  effect  of  the  presence  of  an  Jinghbh 
ofliccr  upon  native  Indian  troops. 


52  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

ate,  fcr  its  accomplishment.  "With  indomitable  pertinacity,  she 
now  decreed,  instead  of  recalling  her  first  armament  from  before 
Syracuse,  to  send  oi^t  a  second,  though  her  enemies  near  home 
had  now  renewed  02)en  warfare  against  her,  and  by  occupying  a 
permanent  fortification  in  her  territory  had  severely  distressed  her 
population,  and  were  pressing  her  with  almost  all  the  hardships 
of  an  actual  siege.  She  still  was  mistress  of  the  sea,  and  she  sent 
forth  another  fleet  of  seventy  galleys,  and  another  army,  which 
seemed  to  drain  almost  the  last  reserves  of  her  military  popula- 
tion, to  try  if  Syracuse  could  not  yet  be  won,  and  the  honor  of  the 
Athenian  arms  be  preserved  from  the  stigma  of  a  retreat.  Hers 
was,  indeed,  a  spirit  that  might  be  broken,  but  never  would  bend. 
At  the  head  of  this  second  expedition  she  wisely  placed  her  best 
general,  Demosthenes,  one  of  the  most  distinguished  officers  that 
the  long  Peloponnesian  war  had  produced,  and  who,  if  he  had 
originally  held  the  Sicilian  command,  would  soon  have  brought 
Syracuse  to  submission. 

The  fame  of  Demosthenes  the  general  had  been  dimmed  by  the 
suiDcrior  lustre  of  his  great  countryman,  Demosthenes  the  orator. 
When  the  name  of  Demosthenes  is  mentioned,  it  is  the  latter  alone 
that  is  thought  of.  The  soldier  has  found  no  biographer.  Yet  out 
of  the  long  list  of  great  men  whom  the  Athenian  republic  pro- 
duced, there  are  few  that  deserve  to  stand  higher  than  this  brave, 
though  finally  imsuccessftil  leader  of  her  fleets  and  armies  in  the 
first  half  of  the  PeloiJonnesian  war.  In  his  first  campaign  in  Mto- 
lia  he  had  shown  some  of  the  rashness  of  youth,  and  had  received 
a  lesson  of  caution  by  which  he  profited  tlaroughout  the  rest  of  his 
career,  but  without  losing  any  of  his  natural  energy  in  enterprise 
or  in  execiition.  He  had  performed  the  distinguished  service  of 
rescuing  Naupactus  from  a  powerful  hostile  armament  in  the  sev- 
enth year  of  the  war  ;  he  had  then,  at  the  req^^est  of  the  Acarnanian 
republics,  taken  on  himself  the  office  of  commander-in-chief  of  all 
their  forces,  and  at  their  head  he  had  gained  some  important 
advantages  over  the  enemies  of  Athens  in  Western  Greece.  His 
most  celebrated  exploits  had  been  the  occuj^ation  of  Pylos  on  the 
Messenian  coast,  the  successful  defense  of  that  place  against  the 
fleet  and  armies  of  Laceda^mon,  and  the  subsequent  capture  of  the 
Spartan  forces  on  the  isle  of  S^jhacteria,  which  was  the  severest 
blow  dealt  to  Sparta  throughout  the  war,  and  which  had  mainly 
caused  her  to  humble  herself  to  make  the  truce  with  Athens.  De- 
mosthenes was  as  honorably  iinlcnown  in  the  war  of  party  politics 
at  Athens  as  he  was  eminent  in  the  war  against  the  foreign  enemy. 
We  read  of  no  intrigues  of  his  on  either  the  aristocratic  or  demo- 
cratic side.  He  was  neither  in  the  interest  of  Nicias  norofCleon. 
His  private  character  was  free  from  any  of  the  stains  Avhich  pollut- 
ed that  of  Alcibiades.  On  all  these  points  the  silence  of  the  comio 
dramatist  is  decisive  evidence  in  his  favor.  He  had  also  the  moral 
coui'age,  not  always  combined  with  i^hysical,  of  seeking  to  do  hia 


DEFEAT  OF  THE  ATHENIANS.  53 

dTit>'  to  his  country,  irrespective  of  finy  odium  that  life  himself 
might  incur,  and  unhampered  by  any  petty  jealousy  of  those  who 
vreie  asfeociated  with  him  in  command.  There  are  few  men  named 
in  ancient  history  of  whom  posterity  woukl  ghadly  know  more,  or 
whom  we  sympathize  with  more  deeply  in  the  calamities  that  befell 
them,  than  Demosthenes,  the  son  of  Alcisthenes,  who,  in  the  spring 
of  the  year  413  b.  c,  left  Pirceus  at  the  head  of  the  second  Athenian 
expedition  against  Sicily. 

His  arrival  was  critically  timed;  for  Gylippus  had  encouraged 
the  Sj'racusiins  to  attack  the  Athenians  under  Nicias  by  sea  as  well 
&s  by  land,  and  by  one  able  stratagem  of  Ariston,  one  of  the 
ftdmirals  of  the  Corinthian  auxiliary  squadron,  the  Syracusans 
md  their  confederates  had  iniiicted  on  the  fleet  of  Nicias  the  first 
lefeat  that  the  Athenian  navj  had  ever  sustained  from  a  niamerically 
uferior  enemy.  Gylippus  was  preparing  to  follow  ujd  bis  advan- 
tage by  fresh  attacks  on  the  Athenians  on  both  elements,  when 
iJie  arrival  of  Demosthenes  completely  changed  the  aspect  of 
affairs,  and  restored  the  superiority  to  the  invaders.  AVith  seventy- 
Ihree  war-galleys  in  the  highest  state  of  efficiency,  and  brilliantly 
equipped,  with  a  force  of  five  thousand  picked  men  of  the  regular 
infantry  of  Athens  and  her  allies,  and  a  still  larger  number  of 
bow-men,  javelin-men,  and  slingers  on  board.  Demosthenes 
rowed  round  the  great  harbor  with  loud  cheers  and  martial  music, 
as  if  in  defiance  of  the  Syracusans  and  their  confederates.  His 
arrival  had  indeed  changed  their  newly-born  hopes  into  the  deep- 
est consternation.  The  resourees  of  Athens  seemed  inexhaustible, 
and  resistance  to  her  hopeless.  They  had  been  told  that  she  was 
reduced  to  the  last  extremities,  and  that  her  territory  was  occu- 
pied by  an  enemy ;  and  yet  here  they  saw  her  sending  forth,  as  if 
in  prodigality  of  power,  a  second  armament  to  make  foreign 
conquests,  not  inferior  to  that  with  which  Nicias  had  first  landed 
on  the  Sicilian  shores. 

"With  the  intuitive  decision  of  a  great  commander,  Demosthenes 
at  once  saw  that  the  possession  of  Epipolas  was  the  key  to  the  pos- 
session of  Syracuse,  and  he  resolved  to  make  a  prompt  and  vigor- 
ous attempt  to  recover  that  position,  while  his  force  was  unim- 
paired, and  the  consternation  which  its  arrival  had  produced 
among  the  besieged  remained  unabated.  The  Syracusans  and 
their  allies  had  run  out  an  outwork  along  Epipohe  from  the  city 
walls,  intersecting  the  fortified  linf-s  of  circumvallation  which 
Nicias  had  commenced,  but  from  which  he  had  been  driven  by 
Gylippus.  Could  Demosthenes  succeed  in  storming  this  outwork, 
and  in  re-establishing  the  Athenian  troops  on  the  high  ground, 
he  might  fairly  hope  to  be  able  to  resume  the  circumvallation  of 
the  city,  and  become  the  conquerer  of  Sj'racuse;  for  when  once 
the  besiegers'  lines  were  completed,  the  number  of  the  troops  with 
which  Gylippus  had  garrisoned  the  place  would  only  tend  to 
exhaust  the  stores  of  provisioris  and  accelerate  its  downiall. 


54  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

An  easily-repelled  attack  was  first  made  on  the  outwork  in  the 
day-time,  proLably  more  with  the  view  of  blinding  the  besieged 
to  the  natiire  of  the  main  operations  than  with^^any  expectation  of 
succeeding  in  an  open  assault,  with  every  disadvantage  of  the 
ground  to  contend  against.  But,  when  the  darkness  had  set  in, 
JJemosthenss  formed  his  men  in  columns,  each  soldier  taking  with 
him  five  days' provisions,  and  the  engineers  and  workmen  of  the 
camp  following  the  troops  with  their  tools,  and  all  portable  im- 
plements of  fortification,  so  as  at  once  to  secure  any  advantage  of 
ground  that  the  army  might  gain.  Thiis  equipped  and  prepared, 
he  led  his  men  along  by  the  foot  of  the  southern  flank  of  Epipoloe, 
in  a  direction  toward  the  interior  of  the  island,  till  he  came  im- 
mediately below  the  narrow  ridge  that  forms  the  extremity  of  the 
high  ground  looking  westward.  He  then  wheeled  his  A^anguard 
to  the  right,  sent  them  rajaidly  up  the  paths  that  wind  along  the 
face  of  the  cliff,  and  succeeded  in  completely  surprising  the  Syra- 
cusan  outposts,  and  in  placing  his  troops  fairly  on  the  extreme 
summit  of  the  all-important  Epipolae.  Thence  the  Athenians 
marched  eagerly  down  the  slope  toward  the  town,  routing  some 
Syracusan  detachments  that  were  quartered  in  their  way,  and 
vigorously  assailing  the  unprotected  side  of  the  outwork.  All  at 
first  favored  them.  The  outwork  was  abandoned  by  its  garrison, 
and  the  Athenian  engineers  began  to  dismantle  it.  In  vain  Gylip- 
pus  brought  up  fresh  troojjs  to  check  the  assault;  the  Athenians 
broke  and  drove  them  back,  and  continued  to  press  hotly  forward, 
in  the  full  confidence  of  victory.  But,  amid  the  general  consterna- 
tion of  the  Syracusans  and  their  confederates,  one  body  of  infantry 
stood  firm.  This  was  a  brigade  of  their  Boeotian  allies,  which 
was  posted  low  down  the  slope  of  Epijoolae,  outside  the  city  walls. 
Cooly  and  steadily  the  Bceotian  infantry  formed  their  line,  and, 
undismayed  by  the  current  of  flight  around  them,  advanced 
against  the  advancing  Athenians.  This  was  the  crisis  of  the  bat. 
tie. 

But  the  Athenian  van  was  disorganized  by  its  own  previous 
successes;  and,  yielding  to  the  unexpected  charge  thus  made  on 
it  by  troops  in  perfect  order,  and  of  the  most  obstinate  courage,  it 
was  driven  back  in  confusion  upon  theother  divisions  of  the  army, 
that  still  continued  to  press  forward.  When  once  the  tide  was 
'thus  turned,  the  Syracusans  passed  rapidly  from  the  extreme  of 
'panic  to  the  extreme  of  vengeful  daring,  and  with  all  their  forces 
they  now  fiercely  assailed  the  embarrassed  and  receding  Athen- 
ians. In  vain  did  the  officers  of  the  latter  strive  to  re-form  their 
line. 

Amid  the  din  and  the  shouting  of  the  fight,  and  the  confusion 
inseparable  uj^on  a  night  engagement,  especially  one  where 
many  thousand  combatants  were  pent  and  whirled  together  in  a 
narrow  and  uneven  area,  the  necessary  maneuvers  were  impractic- 
able; and  though  many  companies  still  fought  on   desperately, 


DEFEAT  OF  THE  ATHENIANS.  55 

wherever  tlie  moonlight  showed  them  the  semblance  of  a  foe,* 
they  fought  without  concert  or  subordination  ;  and  not  unfre- 
quently,  amid  the  deadly  chaos,  Athenian  troops  assailed  each 
other.  '  Keeping  th^r  ranks  close,  the  Syracusaus  and  their  allies 
pressed  on  against  the  disorganized  masses  of  the  besiegers,  and 
at  length  drove  them,  with  heavy  slaughter,  over  the  clifls,  which 
an  hour  or  two  before  they  had  scaled  full  of  hope,  and  apparently 
certain  of  success. 

This  defeat  was  decisive  of  the  event  of  the  siege.  The  Atho- 
nians  afterward  struggled  only  to  protect  themselves  from  the  ven- 
geance which  the  Syracusians  sought  to  wreak  in  the  complete 
destruction  of  their  invaders.  Never,  however,  was  vengeance 
more  complete  and  terrible.  A  series  of  sea-fights  followed,  in 
which  the  Athenian  galleys  were  utterly  destroyed  or  captured. 
The  marines  and  soldiers  who  escaped  death  in  disastrous  en- 
gagements, and  a  vain  attempt  to  force  a  retreat  into  the  interior 
of  the  island,  became  prisoners  of  war  ;  Nicias  and  Demosthenes 
were  put  to  death  in  cold  blood,  and  their  men  either  perished 
miserably  in  the  syracusan  dungeons,  or  were  sold  into  slavery 
to  the  very  persons  whom,  in  their  pride  of  power,  they  had 
crossed  the  seas  to  enslave. 

All  danger  from  Athens  to  the  independent  nations  of  the  West 
•was  now  forever  at  an  end.  She,  indeed,  centinued  to  struggle 
against  her  combined  enemies  and  revolted  allies  with  unpar- 
alleled gallantry,  and  many  more  years  of  varying  warfare  passed 
away  before  she  surrendered  to  their  arms.  But  no  success  in 
subsequent  conquests  could  ever  have  restored  her  to  the  pre-em- 
inence in  enterprise,  resources,  and  maratime  skill  which  she  had 
acquired  before  her  fatal  reverses  in  Sicily.  Nor  among  the  rival 
Greek  republics,  whom  her  own  rashness  aided  to  crush  her,  was 
there  any  capable  of  re-organizing  her  empire,  or  resuming  her 
schemes  of  conquest.  The  dominion  of  Western  Europe  M^as  left 
for  Eome  and  Carthage  to  dispute  two  centuries  later,  in  conflicts 
still  more  terrible,  and  with  even  higher  displays  of  military  dar- 
ing and  genius  than  Athens  had  witnessed  either  in  her  rise,  her 
meridian,  or  her  fall. 

*  ^Hv )j.Ev  yap  6EXr]vy)Xa^ntpd,  tc^poov  ds  otroo?  dXXyjXov?, 
coi  kv  6tXr]Vt;i-  eixoi  tj)v  ix&v  otyiv  tov  dooitiaroi  itpoopdv  T7]V 
ie  yva)6iv  zov  oixeiov  diTidreloOai. — Tnuc.  Mb.  vll.,  44.  Compare 
Vacltus's  description  of  the  night  engagement  la  the  civil  war  between 
tespastan  and  VltelUus.  "  Neutro  Incllnaverat  fortuna,  aouec  adulta  uoct« 
<wt«  oitenUeret  acies/aUereique,''—Mvit.,  lib,  ill.,  sec.  a3. 


56  DECiaiVE  BATTLES. 


Sx^opsis  OF  Events  between  the  Defeat  of  the  Athenians  at 
Sykactjse  and  the  Battle  of  Arbf.t.a. 

412  B.  C.  Many  of  the  subject  allies  of  Athens  revolt  from  her 
on  her  disasters  before  Syracuse  being  known;  the  seat  of  war  is 
transferred  to  the  Hellespont  and  eastern  side  of  the  ^gasan. 
I  410.  The  Carthaginians  attempt  to  make  conquests  in  Sicily. 
'  407.  Cyrus  the  Younger  is  sent  by  the  King  of  Persia  to  take 
the  government  of  all  the  maritime  parts  of  Asia  Minor,  and  with 
orders  to  helj)  the  Lacedncmonian  fleet  against  the  Athenian. 

406.  Agrigentum  taken  by  the  Carthaginians. 

405.  The  last  Athenian  fleet  destroyed  by  Lysander  at  .^gospo' 
tami.  Athens  closely  besieged.  Else  of  the  power  of  Dionysiua 
at  Syracuse. 

404.  Athens  surrenders.  End  of  the  Peloponnesian  war.  Tha 
ascendency  of  Sparta  complete  throughout  Greece. 

403.  Thrasybulus,  aided  by  the  Thebans  and  with  the  conni' 
vance  of  one  of  the  Spartan  kings,  liberates  Athens  from  the  Thirty 
Tj'rants,  and  restores  the  democracy. 

401.  Cyrus  the  Younger  commences  his  expedition  into  Uppel 
Asia  to  dethrone  his  brother  Artaxerxes  Mnemon.  He  takes  witi 
him  an  auxiliary  force  of  ten  thousand  Greeks.  He  is  killed  in 
battle  at  Cunaxa,  and  the  ten  thousand,  led  by  Xenophon,  eflfecl 
their  retreat  in  spite  of  the  Persian  armies  and  the  natural  obstacles 
of  their  march. 

399.  In  this  and  the  five  following  years,  the  Lacedaemonians, 
under  Agesilaus  and  other  commanders,  carrj'  on  war  against  the 
Persian  satraps  in  Asia  Minor. 

39(3.  Syracuse  besieged  by  the  Carthaginians,  and  successfull3( 
defended  by  Dionysius. 

394.  Eome  makes  her  first  great  stride  in  the  career  of  conquest 
by  the  capture  of  Veil. 

3D3.  The  Athenian  admiral,  Conon,  in  conjunction  with  the 
Persian  satrap  Pharnabazus,  defeats  the  Lacedaemonian  fleet  ofl 
Cnidus,  and  restores  the  fortifications  of  Athens.  Several  of  the 
former  allies  of  Sparta  in  Greece  carry  on  hostilities  against  her. 

388.  The  nations  of  Northern  Europe  now  first  appear  in 
authentic  history.  The  Gauls  overrun  great  part  of  Italy  and  burn 
Eome.  Eome  recovers  from  the  blow,  but  her  old  enemies  the 
^quians  and  Volscians  are  left  completely  crushed  by  the  Gallic 
invaders. 

387.  The  peace  of  Antalcidas  is  concluded  among  the  Greeks  by 
the  mediation,  and  under  the  sanction,  of  the  PersicJi  king, 

378  to  361.  Fresh  wars  in  Greece.  Epaminondas  raises  Thebes 
to  be  the  leading  state  of  Greece,  and  the  supremacy  of  Sparta  is 
destroyed  at  the  battle  of  Leuctra.  Epaminondas  is  killed  in 
gaining  the  victory  of  Mantinea,  and  the  power  of  Thebes  falls 


BATTLE  OF  AEBELA.  57 

with  him.  The  Athenians  attempt  a  balancing  system  between 
Sparta  and  Thebes. 

359.  Philip  becomes  king  of  Maceclon. 

357.  The  Social  W«r  breaks  out  in  Greece,  and  lasts  three  years. 
Its  result  checks  the  attempt  of  Athens  to  regain  her  old  maritime 
empire. 

356.  Alexander  the  Great  is  born. 

343.  Eome  begins  her  wars  with  the  Samnites:  they  extend  over 
a  period  of  fifty  years.  The  end  of  this  obstinate  contest  is  to  se-i 
cure  for  her  the  dominion  of  Italy. 

3i0.  Fresh  attempts  of  the  Carthaginians  uiDon  Syracuse.  Tim- 
oleon  defeats  them  with  great  slaughter. 

338.  Philip  defeats  the  confederate  armies  of  Athens  and  Thebes 
at  Chseronea,  and  the  Macedonian  supremacy  over  Greece  is  firm- 
ly established. 

336.  Philip  is  assassinated,  and  Alexander  the  Great  becomes 
king  of  Macedon.  He  gains  several  victories  over  the  northern 
barbarians  who  had  attacked  Macedonia,  and  destroys  Thebes, 
which,  in  conjunction  with  Athens,  had  taken  up  arms  against 
the  Macedonians. 

334  Alexander  passes  the  Hellespont. 


CHAPTEE  m. 

THE  BATTLE  Oy  ARBRT.A,  B.C.  331. 

Alexander  deserves  the  glory  which  he  has  enjoyed  for  so  many  centu. 
rles  and  among  all  natious :  but  \\iiat  If  he  had  been  beaten  at  Arbela 
having  the  Kuptirates,  the  Tigris,  and  the  deserts  In  his  rear,  without  iiuy 
strong  places  ol  refuge,  nine  hundred  leagues  from  Macedonia !— Napo- 
leon. 

Asia  beheld  with  astonishment  and  awe  the  uninterrupted  progress  of  a 
hero,  the  sweep  of  whose  conquests  was  as  wide  and  rapid  as  that  of  her 
own  barbaric  kings,  or  of  the  Scythian  or  ChaUtean  hordes;  but,  far  un- 
like the  transient  whirlwinds  of  Asiatic  wart'are,  the  advance  of  the  Mace- 
donian leader  was  no  less  deliberate  than  rapid ;  at  every  step  the  Greek 
power  took  root,  and  the  language  anfl  the  civilization  of  Greece  were 
planted  from  the  shores  of  the  ,Eg;ean  to  the  banks  or  the  Indus,  from  the 
Caspian  and  the  great  llyrcanlau  plain  to  the  cataracts  of  the  Nile ;  to 
exist  actually  for  nearly  a  thousand  years,  and  in  theii"  effects  to  endui'o 
forever. —Abn  old. 

A  LONG  and  not  uninstructive  list  might  be  made  out  of  illus- 
trious men  whose  characters  have  been  vindicated  diiring  recent 
times  from  aspersions  which  for  centuries  had  been  tluown  on 
them.  The  spirit  of  modern  inqtiiry,  and  the  tendency  of  modern 
scholarship,  both  of  which  are  often  said  to  be  solely  negative 
end  destructive,  have,  in  truth,  restored   to  splendor,  and  al- 


58  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

most  creaied  anew,  far  more  tlian  they  liave  assailed  -n-ith  censure, 
or  dismissed  from  consideration  as  unreal.  The  truth  of  many  a 
brilliant  narrative  of  brilliant  exploits  has  of  late  years  been 
triumphantly  demonstrated,  and  the  shallowness  of  the  skeptical 
scofi's  with  which  little  minds  have  carped  at  the  great  minds  of 
antiquity  has  been  in  many  instances  decisively  exposed.  The 
laws,  the  politics  and  the  lines  of  action  adojated  or  recommended 
by  eminent  men  and  jjowerful  nations  have  been  examined  with 
keener  investigation,  and  considered  with  more  comprehensive 
judgment  than  formerly  were  brought  to  bear  on  these  subjects. 
The  result  has  been  at  least  as  often  favorable  as  unfavorable 
to  the  jjersons  and  the  states  so  scrutinized,  and  many  an 
oft-repeated  slantler  against  both  measures  and  men  has  thus 
been  silenced,  we  may  hope  forever. 

The  veracity  of  Herodotus,  the  pure  patriotism  of  Pericles,  of 
Demosthenes,  and  of  the  Gracchi,  the  wisdom  of  Clisthenes  and 
of  Licinius  as  constitutional  reformers,  may  be  mentioned  as  facts 
which  recent  writers  have  cleared  from  unjust  suspicion  and  cen- 
sure. And  it  might  be  easily  shown  that  the  defensive  tendency, 
which  distinguishes  the  present  and  recent  great  writers  of  Ger- 
many, France  and  England,  has  been  equally  manifested  in  the 
sioirit  in  which  they  have  treated  the  heroes  of  thought  and  heroes 
of  action  who  lived  during  what  we  termed  the  Middle  Ages,  and 
whom  it  was  so  long  the  fashion  to  sneer  at  or  neglect. 

The  name  of  the  victor  of  Arbela  has  led  to  these  reflections  ; 
for,  although  the  rajjidity  and  extent  of  Alexander's  conquests 
have  through  all  ages  challenged  admiration  and  amazement, 
the  grandeur  of  genius  which  he  displayed  in  his  schemes  of  com- 
merce, civilization,  and  of  comprehensive  union  and  unity  among 
nations,  has,  until  lately,  been  comparatively  unhonored.  This 
long-continued  depreciation  was  of  early  date.  The  ancient 
rhetoricians — a  class  of  babblers,  a  school  for  lies  and  scandal, 
as  Niebuhr  justly  termed  them — chose,  among  the  stock  themes 
for  their  commonijlaces,  the  character  and  exploits  of  Alexander. 
They  had  their  followers  in  every  age  ;  and,  until  a  very  recent 
period,  all  who  wished  to  "point  a  moral  or  adorn  a  tale,"  about 
unreasoning  ambition,  extravagant  pride,  and  the  formidable 
phrensies  of  free  will  when  leagued  with  free  power,  have 
never  failed  to  blazon  forth  the  so-called  madman  of  Macedonia 
as  one  of  the  most  glaring  examples.  Without  doubt,  many  of 
these  writers  adopted  with  implicit  credence  traditional  ideas, 
and  supposed,  with  uninquiring  philanthropy,  that  in  blackening 
Alexander  they  were  doing  humanity  good  service.  But  also, 
without  doubt,  many  of  his  assailants,  like  those  of  other  great 
men,  have  been  mainly  instigated  by  *'  that  strongest  of  all  an- 
tipathies, the  antipathy  of  a  second-rate  mind  to  a  first-rate 
one,''*  and  by  the  envy  which  talent  too  often  bears  to  genius, 

*  UetetaeU 


BATTLE  OF  ARBELA,  59 

Arrian,  ■who  -vn'ote  liis  history  of  Alexander  •when  Hadrian  was 
emperor  of  the  Eoman  world,  and  when  the  spirit  of  declamation 
and  dogmatism  was  at  its  full  height,  but  who  was  himself,  unlike 
the  dreaming  pedants  of  the  schools,  a  statesman  and  a  soldier  of 
l^ractical  and  proved  ability,  well  rebuked  the  malevolent  asper- 
sions which  he  heard  continually  thrown  \ipon  the  memory  of  the 
conquerer  of  the  East.  He  truly  saj's  :  "  Let  the  man  who  speaks 
evil  of  Alexander  not  merely  bring  forward  those  passages  of 
Alexander's  life  which  were  really  evil,  but  let  him  collect  and 
review  all  the  actions  of  Alexander,  and  then  let  him  thoroughly 
consider  first  who  and  what  manner  of  man  he  himself  is,  and 
what  has  been  his  own  career  ;  and  then  let  him  consider  who  and 
what  manner  of  man  Alexander  was,  and  to  what  an  eminence  of 
human  grandeur /(e  arrived.  Lot  him  consider  that  Alexander 
w'as  a  King,  and  the  undisputed  lord  of  two  continents,  and  that 
his  name  is  renowned  throughout  the  whole  earth.  Let  the  evil- 
speaker  against  Alexander  bear  all  this  in  mind,  and  then  let  him 
reflect  on  his  own  insignificance,  the  pettiness  of  his  own  circum- 
stances and  affairs,  and  the  blunders  that  he  makes  about  these, 
paltry  and  trifling  as  they  are.  Let  him  then  ask  himself 
whether  he  is  a  fit  person  to  censure  and  revile  such  a  man  as 
Alexander.  I  believe  that  there  was  in  his  time  no  nation  of  men, 
no  city,  nay,  no  single  individual  with  whom  Alexanders  name 
had  not  become  a  familiar  word.  I  therefore  hold  that  such  a 
man,  who  was  like  no  ordinary  mortal,  was  not  born  into  the 
world  without  some  special  providence."* 

And  one  of  the  most  distinguished  soldiers  and  writers  of  our 
own  nation.  Sir  Walter  Ealeigh,  though  he  failed  to  estimate  justly 
the  full  merits  of  Alexander,  has  expressed  his  sense  of  the 
grandeur  of  the  part  played  in  the  world  by  "the  great  Emathian 
conqueror "  in  language  that  well  deserves  quotation. 

"80  much  hath  the  spirit  of  some  one  man  excelled  as  it  hath 
■undertaken  and  affected  the  alteration  of  the  greatest  states  and 
commonweals,  the  erection  of  monarchies,  the  conquest  of  king- 
doms and  empires,  guided  handfuls  of  men  against  multitudes  of 
equal  bodily  strength,  contrived  victories  beyond  all  hope  and 
discourse  of  reason,  converted  the  fearful  passions  of  his  own 
followers  into  magnanimity,  and  the  valor  of  his  enemies  into  cow- 
ardice ;  such  spirits  Imve  been  stirred  up  in  sundry  ages  of  the 
■world,  and  in  divers  parts  thereof,  to  erect  and  cast  dov>'n  again, 
to  establish  and  to  destroy,  and  to  bring  all  things,  persons,  and 
states  to  the  same  certain  ends,  which  the  infinite  spirit  of  the 
Universal,  piercing,  moving,  and  governing  all  things,  hath  or- 
dained. Certainly,  the  things  that  this  king  did  were  marvelous, 
and  would  hardly  have  been  undertaken  by  anyone  else  :  and 
though  his  father  had  determined  to  have  invaded  the  Lesser  Asia, 

*  Arrian  lib.  ^11.,  ad  flnem. 


60  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

it  is  like  enough  that  he  would  have  contented  himself  with  some 
part  thereof,  and  not  have  discovered  the  river  of  Indus,  as  thia 
man  did."* 

A  higher  authority  than  either  Arrian  or  Ealtigh  may  now  be 
referred  to  by  those  who  wish  to  know  the  real  merit  of  Alexander 
as  a  general,  and  how  far  the  commonplace  assertions  are 
true  that  his  successes  were  the  mere  results  of  fortiinate  rash- 
ness and  unreasoning  pugnacity.  Napoleon  selected  Alex- 
ander as  one  of  the  seven  greatest  generals  whose  noble  deeds 
history  has  handed  down  to  us,  and  from  the  study  of  whose 
compuigns  the  principles  of  war  are  to  be  learned.  The  critique 
of  the  greatest  conquerer  of  modern  times  on  the  military  career 
of  the  great  conquerer  of  the  Old  World  is  no  less  graphic  than  true. 

"Alexander crossed  the  Dardanelles  334: b.  c,  with  an  army  of 
about  forty  thousand  men,  of  which  one  eighth  was  cavalry  ;  he 
forced  the  passage  of  the  Granicus  in  opposition  to  an  army  under 
Memmon,  the  Greek,  who  commanded  for  Darius  on  the  coast  of 
Asia,  and  he  spent  the  whole  of  the  year  333  in  establishing  his 
power  in  Asia  Minor.  He  was  seconded  by  the  Greek  colonies, 
who  dwelt  on  the  borders  of  the  Black  Sea  and  on  the  Mediterran- 
ean, and  in  Sardis,  Ephesus,  Tarsus,  Miletiis,  &c.  The  kings  of 
Persia  left  their  provinces  and  towns  to  be  governed  according  to 
their  own  particular  laws.  Their  empire  was  a  union  of  confeder- 
ate states,  and  did  not  form  one  nation ;  this  facilitated  its  conquest. 
As  Alexander  only  wished  for  the  throne  of  the  monarch,  he  easily 
affected  the  change  by  respecting  the  customs,  manners  and  laws 
of  the  people,  who  experienced  no  change  in  their  conditions. 

"In  the  year  332  he  met  with  Darius  at  the  head  of  sixty  thou- 
sand men,  who  had  taken  iip  a  position  near  Tarsus,  on  the  banks 
of  the  Issus,  in  the  province  of  Cilicia.  He  defeated  him,  en- 
tered Syria,  took  Damascus,  which  contained  all  the  riches  of  the 
great  king,  and  laid  siege  to  Tyre.  This  superb  metropolis  of  the 
commerce  of  the  world  detained  him  nine  months.  He  took 
Gaza,  after  a  siege  of  two  months  ;  crossed  the  Desert  in  seven 
days  ;  entered  Pelusium  and  Memphis,  and  founded  Alexan- 
dria. In  less  than  two  years,  after  two  battles  and  four  or  five 
sieges,  the  coasts  of  the  Black  Sea,  from  Phasis  to  Byzantium, 
those  of  the  Mediterranean  as  far  as  Alexandria,  all  Asia  Minor, 
Syria  and  EgyjDt,  had  submitted  to  his  arms. 

"In  331  he  repassed  the  Desert,  encamped  in  Tyre,  recrossed 
Syria,  entered  Damascus,  i^assed  the  Euphrates  and  Tigris,  and 
defeated  Darius  on  the  field  of  Arbela,  when  he  was  at  the  head 
of  a  still  stronger  army  than  that  which  he  commanded  on  the 
Issus,  and  Babylon  opened  her  gates  to  him.  In  330  he  overran 
Susa  and  took  that  city,  Persepolis,  and  Parsargarda,  which  con- 
tained the  tomb  of  Cyrus,      In  329  he  directed  his  course  north- 

•  ••  Tlie  Historle  ol  the  World," '  by  Sir  Walter  Kalelgli,  Knlglit,  p.  &18. 


BATTLE  OF  ABBELA.  61 

ward,  entered  Ecbatana,  and  extended  his  conquests  to  the  coasts 
of  the  Caspian,  punished  Besstis,  the  cowardlj'  assassin  of  Darius, 
penetrated  into  Scythia,  and  subdued  the  Scythians.  In  328  he 
forced  the  passage  of  the  Oxus,  received  sixteen  thousand  recruits 
from  Macedonia,  and  reduced  the  neighboring  people  to  subject- 
tion.  In  327  he  crossed  the  Indus,  vanquished  Porus  in  a  jjitched 
battle,  took  him  prisoner,  and  treated  him  as  a  king.  He  con- 
temi^lated  passing  the  Ganges,  but  his  army  refused.  He  sailed 
down  the  Indus,  in  the  year  326,  with  eight  hundred  vessels ; 
hfiving  arrived  at  the  ocean,  he  sent  Nearchus  with  a  fleet  to  run 
along  the  coasts  of  the  Indian  Ocean  and  the  Persian  Gulf  as  far 
as  the  mouth  of  the  Euphrates.  In  325  he  took  sixty  days  in 
crossing  from  Gedrosia,  entered  Kermania,  returned  to  Pasargada, 
Persepolis,  and  Susa,  and  married  Statira,  the  daughter  of  Darius. 
In  324  he  marched  once  more  to  the  north,  passed  Ecbatana,  and 
terminated  his  career  at  Babylon.* 

The  enduring  importance  of  Alexander's  conquests  is  to  be 
estimated  not  l>y  the  duration  of  his  own  life  and  empire,  or  even 
by  the  diiration  of  the  kingdoms  which  his  generals  after  his  death 
formed  out  of  the  fragmt-nts  of  that  mighty  dominion.  In  every 
region  of  the  world  that  he  traversed,  Alexander  planted  Greek 
settlements  and  founded  cities,  in  the  populations  of  which  the 
Greek  element  at  once  asserted  its  predominance.  Among  his 
successors,  the  8elucidje  and  the  Ptolemies  imitated  their  great 
captain  in  blending  schemes  of  civilization,  of  commercial  inter- 
course, and  of  literary  and  scientific  research  with  all  their  enter- 
prises of  military  aggrandizement  and  with  all  their  systems  of 
civil  administration.  Such  was  the  ascendency  of  the  Greek 
genius,  so  wonderfully  comprehensive  and  assimilating  was  the 
cultivation  which  it  introduced,  that,  within  thirty  years  after 
Alexander  crossed  the  Hellespont,  the  Greek  language  was  spoken 
in  every  country  from  the  shores  of  the  Mgcen  to  the  Indus,  and 
also  throughout  Egypt— not,  indeed,  wholly  to  the  extirpation  of 
the  native  dialects,  but  it  became  the  language  of  every  court,  of 
all  literature,  of  every  judicial  and  political  function,  and  formed 
a  medium  of  communication  among  the  many  myriads  of  man- 
kind inhabiting  these  large  portions  of  the  Old  World.f  Through- 
out Asia  Minor,  Syria,  and  Egypt,  the  Hellenic  character  that 
was  thus  imparted  remained  in  full  vigor  down  to  the  time  of 
the  Mohammedan  conquests.  The  infinite  value  of  this  to  hu- 
manity in  the  highest  and  holiest  point  of  view  has  often  been 
pointed  out,  and  the  workings  of  the  finger  of  Providence  have 
been  gratefully  recognized  by  those  who  have  observed  how  the 
early  growth  and  progress  of  Christianity  were  aided  by  that 
diffusion  of  the  Greek  language  and  civilization  throughout  Asia 

*  See  count  Montholnn's  "  Memoirs  of  Napoleon.** 
t  See  Arnold,  Ulst.  Kome,  111.,  p.  40a. 


62  DECmiVE  BATTLES. 

Minor,  Syria,  and  Egypt,  which  had  been  caused  by  the  Macedo- 
nian conq\iest  of  the  East. 

In  Upper  Asia,,  beyond  the  Eiiphrates,  the  direct  and  material 
influence  of  Greek  ascendency  was  more  short-lived.  Yet,  dur- 
ing the  existence  of  the  Hellenic  kingdoms  in  these  regions, 
especially  of  the  Greek  kingdom  of  Bactria,  the  modern  Bokhara, 
very  important  effects  were  produced  on  the  intellectual  tenden- 
cies and  tastes  of  the  inhabitants  of  those  countries,  and  of  the 
adjacent  ones,  by  the  animating  contact  of  the  Grecian  spirit. 
Much  of  Hindoo  science  and  philosoiihy,  much  of  the  literature 
of  the  later  Persian  kingdom  of  the  Arsacidje,  either  originated, 
fi'om,  or  was  largely  modified  by,  Grecian  infiiTcnces.  So,  also, 
the  learning  and  science  of  the  Arabians  were  in  a  far  less  de- 
gree the  result  of  original  invention  and  genius,  than  the  repro- 
duction, in  an  altered  form,  cf  the  Greek  philosophy  and  the  Greek 
lore,  acquired  by  the  Saracenic  conqnerers,  together  with  their 
acquisition  of  the  provinces  which  Alexander  had  subjugated, 
nearly  a  thousand  years  before  the  armed  disciples  of  Mohammed 
commenced  their  career  in  the  East.  It  is  well  known  that 
"Western  Europe  in  the  Middle  Ages  drew  its  philosophy,  its  arts, 
and  its  science  princiiDally  from  Arabian  teachers.  And  thus  we 
see  how  the  intellectual  influence  of  ancient  Greece  poured  on  the 
Eastern  world  by  Alexander's  victories,  and  then  brought  back  to 
bear  on  Mediteval  Europe  by  the  spread  of  the  Saracenic  powers, 
has  exerted  its  action  on  the  elements  of  modern  civilization  by 
this  powerful  though  indirect  channel,  as  well  as  by  the  more 
obvious  effects  of  the  remnants  of  classic  civilization  which  sur- 
vived in  Italy,  Gaul,  Britain,  and  Spain,  after  the  irruption  of  the 
Germanic  nations.* 

These  considerations  invest  the  Macedonian  triumphs  in  the 
East  with  never-dying  interest,  such  as  the  most  showy  and  san- 
guinary successes  of  mere  "low  ambition  and  the  pride  of  kings," 
however  they  may  dazzle  for  a  moment,  can  never  retain  with 
posterity.  Whether  the  old  Persian  emisire  which  Cyrus  founded 
could  have  survived  much  longer  than  it  did,  even  if  Darius  had 
been  victorious  at  Arbela,  may  safely  be  disputed.  That  ancient 
dominion,  like  the  Turkish  at  the  present  time,  labored  under 
every  cause  of  decay  and  dissolution.  The  satraps,  like  the 
modern  pashaws,  continually  rebelled  against  the  central  power, 
and  Egypt  in  particular  was  almos  talways  in  a  state  of  insurrec- 
tion against  the  nominal  sovereign.  Tliere  was  no  longer  any 
effective  central  control,  or  any  internal  principle  of  unity  fused 
through  the  huge  mass  of  the  empire,  and  binding  it  together. 
Persia  was  evidently  aboiit  to  fall;  bat,  had  it  not  been  for 
Alexander's  invasion  of  Asia,  she  would  most  probably  have  fallen 
beneath  some  other  Oriental  power,  as  Media  and  Babylon  had 

*  See  HumhoMt's  "  Cosmos." 


BATTLE  OF  ARBELA,  6i 

/ormerly  fallen  Tjefore  herself,  and  as,  in  after  times,  tlie  Partliian 
supremacy  gave  way  to  the  revived  ascendency  of  Persia  in  the  East, 
under  the  scepters  of  the  Arsacidte.  A  revolution  that  merely 
Bubstituted  one  Eastern  power  for  another  would  have  been  utterly 
barren  and  unprofitable  to  mankind. 

Alexander's  victory  at  Arbela  not  only  overthrew  an  Oriental 
djTiasty,  but  established  European  rulers  in  its  stead .  It  broke 
the  monotony  of  the  Eastern  world  by  the  impression  of  Western 
energy  and  superior  civilization,  even  as  England's  present  mis- 
sion is  to  break  up  the  mental  and  moral  stagnation  of  India  and 
Cathay  by  pouring  upon  and  through  them  the  impulsive  current 
of  Anglo-Saxon  commerce  and  conqiiest. 

Arbela,  the  city  which  has  furnished  its  name  to  the  decisive 
battle  which  gave  Asia  to  Alexander,  lies  more  than  twenty 
miles  from  the  actual  scene  of  conflict.  The  little  village,  then 
named  Guagemela,  is  close  to  the  spot  where  the  armies  met,  but 
has  ceded  the  honor  of  naming  the  battle  to  its  more  euphonius 
neighbor.  Gaugamela  is  situate  in  one  of  the  wide  plains  that 
lie  between  the  Tigris  and  the  mountains  of  Kurdistan.  A  few 
undulating  hillocks  diversify  the  surface  of  this  sandy  track  ; 
but  the  ground  is  generally  level,  and  admirably  qualified  for  the 
evolutions  of  cavalry  and  also  calculated  to  give  the  larger  of 
two  armies  the  full  advantage  of  numerical  superiority.  The 
Persian  king  (who,  before  he  came  to  the  throne,  had  proved  his 
personal  valor  as  a  soldier  and  his  skill  as  a  general),  had  wisely 
selected  this  region  for  the  third  and  decisive  encounter  between 
his  forces  and  the  invader.  The  previous  defeats  of  his  troops, 
however  severe  they  had  been,  were  not  looked  on  as  irreparable. 
The  Granicus  had  been  fought  by  his  generals  rashly  and  without 
mutual  concert ;  and,  though  Darius  himself  had  commanded 
and  been  beaten  at  Issus,  that  defeat  might  be  attributed  to  the 
disadvantageous  nature  of  the  ground,  where,  cooped  up  between 
the  mountains,  the  river,  and  the  sea,  the  niimbers  of  the  Persians 
confused  and  clogged  alike  the  general's  skill  and  the  soldier's 
prowess,  and  their  very  strength  had  been  made  their  weakness. 
Here,  on  the  broad  plains  of  Kurdistan,  there  was  scope  for  Asia's 
largest  host  to  array  its  lines,  to  wheel,  to  skirmish,  to  condense  or 
expand  its  squadrons,  to  maneiiver,  and  to  charge  at  will.  Should 
Alexander  and  his  scanty  band  dare  to  plunge  into  that  living  sea- 
of  war,  their  destruction  seemed  inevitable. 

Darius  felt,  however,  the  critical  nature  to  himself  as  well  as  to 
his  adversary  of  the  coming  encounter.  He  could  not  hope  to 
reti-ieve  the  consequences  of  a  third  overthrow.  The  great  cities  of 
Mesopotamia  and  Upper  Asia,  the  central  provinces  of  the  Persian 
empire,  were  certain  to  be  at  the  mercy  of  the  vii^tor.  Darius  knew 
also  the  Asiatic  chai'acter  well  enough  to  be  aware  how  it  yields  to 
the  prestJi/e  of  success  and  the  apparent  career  of  destiny.  Ho  felt 
that  the  diadem  was  now  to  bo  either  finnly  replaced  on  his  own 


PI  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

broi,T,  or  to  be  irrevocably  triinsfcrrecl  to  the  head  of  hi?  Enropeazi 
conqnerer.  He,  therefore,  during  the  long  interval  left  him  after 
the  battle  of  Issus,  while  Alexander  was  subjugating  Syria  and 
Egypt,  assidiioiisly  busied  himself  in  selecting  the  best  troops 
which  his  vast  empire  supplied,  and  in  training  his  varied  forces  to 
act  together  with  some  uniformity  of  discipline  and  system. 

The  hardy  mountaineers  of  Afghanistan,  Bokhara,  Khiva,  and 
Thibet  were  then,  as  at  present,  far  diflerent  to  the  generality  of 
Asiatics  in  warlike  spirit  and  endurance.  From  these  districts 
Darius  collected  large  bodies  of  admirable  infantry ;  and  the 
countries  of  the  modern  Kurds  and  Turkomans  supplied,  as  they 
do  now,  squadrons  of  horsemen,  hardy,  skilful,  bold,  and  trained 
to  a  life  of  constant  activity  and  warfare.  It  is  not  uninteresting 
to  notice  that  the  ancestors  of  our  own  late  enemies,  the  Sikhs, 
served  as  allies  of  Darius  against  the  Macedonians.  They  are 
spoken  of  in  Arrian  as  Indians  who  dwelt  near  Bactria.  They 
were  attached  to  the  troops  of  that  satrapy,  and  their  cavalry 
was  one  of  the  most  formidable  forces  in  the  whole  Persian  army. 

Besides  these  picked  troops,  contingents  also  came  in  from  the 
numerous  other  provinces  that  yet  obeyed  the  Great  King.  Al- 
together, the  horse  are  said  to  have  been  forty  thousand,  the 
scythe-bearing  chariots  two  hundred,  and  the  armed  elephants 
fifteen  in  number.  The  amount  of  the  infantry  is  iincertain  ; 
but  the  knowledge  which  both  ancient  and  modern  times  suj^ply 
of  the  usual  character  of  Oriental  armies,  and  of  their  popula- 
tions of  camp-followers,  may  warrant  us  in  believing  that  many 
myriads  were  prepared  to  fight,  or  to  encumber  those  who  fought 
for  the  last  Darius. 

The  position  of  the  Persian  king  near  Mesopotamia  was  chosen 
with  great  military  skill.  It  was  certain  that  Alexander,  on 
his  return  from  Egypt,  must  march  northward  along  the  Syrian 
coast  before  he  attacked  the  central  provinces  of  the  Persian 
empire.  A  direct  eastward  march  from  the  lower  part  of  Palestine 
across  the  great  Syrian  Desert  was  then,  as  ever,  utterly  imprac- 
ticable. Marching  eastward  from  Syria  Alexander  would,  on 
crossing  the  EiTphrates,  arrive  at  the  vast  Mesopotamian  jDlains. 
The  wealthy  capitals  of  the  empire,  Babylon,  Susa,  and  Persepolis, 
would  then  lie  to  the  south ;  and  if  he  marched  down  through 
Mesopotamia  to  attack  them,  Darius  might  reasonably  hope  to 
follow  the  Macedonians  with  his  immense  force  of  cavalry,  and, 
without  even  risking  a  pitched  battle,  to  harass  and  finally  over- 
whelm them.  We  may  remember  that  three  centiiries  after- 
ward a  Roman  army  under  Crassus  was  thus  actually  destroyed 
by  the  Oriental  archers  and  horsemen  in  these  very  plains,*  and 
that  the  ancestors  of  the  Parthians  who  thus  vanquished  the  Ro- 
man legions  served  by  thousands  under  King  Darius.     If,  on  the 

*  See  Mltford. 


BATTLE  OF  AEBELA.  65 

contrary,  Alexander  shonld  defer  his  march  against  Babylon,  and 
first  seek  an  encounter  with  the  Persian  army,  the  country  on 
each  side  of  the  Tigris  in  this  latitude  -was  highly  advantageous 
for  such  an  army  as  Darius  commanded,  and  he  had  close  in  his 
rear  the  mountainous  districts  of  Northern  Media,  -where  he  him- 
self had  in  early  life  been  satrap,  where  he  had  acquired  reputa- 
tion as  a  soldier  and  a  general,  and  where  he  justly  expected  to 
find  loyalty  to  his  person,  and  a  safe  refuge  in  case  of  defeat* 

His  great  antagonist  came  on  across  the  Euphrates  against 
him,  at  the  head  of  an  army  which  Arrian,  copying  from  the 
journals  of  Macedonian  officers,  states  to  have  consisted  of  forty 
thousand  foot  and  seven  thousand  horse.  In  studying  the ' 
campaign g  of  Alexander,  we  possess  the  peculiar  advantage  of 
deriving  our  information  from  two  of  Alexander's  generals  of 
division,  who  bore  an  important  part  in  all  his  enterprises.  Aristo- 
bulus  and.  Ptolemy  ( who  afterward  became  king  of  Egypt )  kept 
regular  journals  of  the  military  events  which  they  witnessed,  and 
these  journals  were  in  the  possession  of  Arrian  when  he  drew  up 
his  history  of  Alexander's  expedition.  Tha  high  charactar  of  Ar- 
rian for  integrity  makes  us  confident  that  he  used  them  fairly, 
and  hia  commants  on  the  occasional  discrepancies  between  the 
two  Macedonian  narratives  prove  that  he  used  them  sensibly. 
He  frequently  quotes  the  very  words  of  his  authorities  ;  and  his 
history  thus  acquires  a  charm  such  as  very  few  ancient  or  modern 
military  naiTatives  possess.  The  anecdotes  and  expressions 
which  he  records  we  fairly  believe  to  be  genuine,  and  not  to  boj 
the  coinage  of  a  rhetorician,  like  those  in  Curtius.  In  fact,  in 
reading  Arrian,  we  read  General  Aristobulus  and  General  Ptol- 
emy on  the  campaigns  of  the  Macedonians,  and  it  is  like  read- 
ing General  Jomini  or  General  Foy  on  the  campaigns  of  the 
French, 

The  estimate  which  we  find  in  Arrian  of  the  strength  of  Alex- 
ander's army  seems  reasonable  enough,  when  we  take  into  account 
both  the  losses  which  he  had  sustained  and  the  re-enforcements 
which  ho  had  received  since  he  left  Europe.  Indeed,  to 
Englishmen,  who  know  with  what  mere  handfuls  of  men  our 
own  generals  have,  at  Plassy,  at  Assaye,  at  Meeanee,  and  other 
Indian  battles,  routed  large  hosts  of  Asiatics,  the  desparity  of 
numbers  that  we  read  of  in  the  victories  won  by  the  Macedoni- 
ans over  the  Persians  presents  nothing  incredible.  The  army 
which  Alexander  now  led  was  wholly  composed  of  veteran  troops 

*  Mltford's  remarks  on  the  stratejry  of  Darius  in  Iila  last  campaign  are 
very  just.  After  havlntj  been  unduly  admired  as  an  historian,  Mltiord  Is 
now  unduly  neKleet<;d.  Ills  partiality,  and  his  deiiclency  in  scholarship 
have  been  exposed  suf'iiclently  to  make  hlin  no  long-cr  a  dangerous  guide  as 
to  Greek  poUllcs,  while  the  clearness  and  brtUancy  ot  his  narrative,  and  the 
strong  coiumon  sense  o(  Ids  remarks  (where  his  party  prejudices  d(j  not 
Interfere),  mast  always  make  his  volumes  valuable  as  well  as  entertalniag. 
UB.— 3 


66  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

in  the  highest  possible  state  of  equipment  and  discipline,  enthur 
Biastically  devoted  to  their  leader,  and  full  of  confidence  in  hijj 
military  genius  and  his  victorious  destiny. 

The  celebrated  Macedonian  phalanx  formed  the  main  strength 
of  his  infantry.  This  force  had  been  raised  and  organized  by  his 
father  Philip,  who,  on  his  accession  to  the  Macedonian  throne, 
needed  a  numerous  and  quickly-formed  army,  and  who,  by  length- 
ening the  spear  of  the  ordinary  Greek  phalanx,  and  increasing 
the  depths  of  the  files,  brought  the  tactic  of  armed  masses  to  the 
highest  extent  of  which  it  was  capable  with  such  materials  as 
he  possessed.  *  He  formed  his  men  sixteen  deep,  and  placed  in 
their  grasp  the  sarissa,  as  the  Macedonian  pike  was  called,  which 
was  four-and-twenty  feet  in  length,  and  when  couched  for  action, 
reached  eighteen  feet  in  front  of  the  soldier  ;  so  that,  as  a  space 
of  about  two  feet  was  allowed  between  the  ranks,  the  spears  of 
the  five  files  behind  him  projected  in  front  of  each  front-rank 
man.  The  phalangite  soldier  was  fiilly  eqiiipped  in  the  defens- 
ive armor  of  the  regular  Greek  infantry.  And  thus  the  phalanx 
presented  a  ponderous  and  bristling  mass,  which,  as  long  as  its 
order  was  kept  compact,  was  sure  to  bear  down  all  opposition. 
The  defects  of  such  an  organization  are  obvious,  and  were  proved 
in  after  years,  when  the  Macedonians  were  opposed  to  the  Koman 
legions.  33ut  it  is  clear  that  under  Alexander  the  phalanx  was 
not  the  cumbrous,  unwieldy  body  which  it  was  at  Cynoscej)hala3 
and  Pydna.  His  men  were  veterans  ;  and  he  could  obtain  from 
them  an  accuracy  of  movement  and  steadiness  of  evolution  such 
as  probably  the  recruits  of  his  father  would  only  have  floundered 
in  attempting,  and  such  as  certainly  were  impracticable  in  the 
phalanx  when  handled  by  his  siiccessors,  especially  as  under 
them  it  ceased  to  be  a  standing  force,  and  became  only  a  militia.t 
Under  Alexander  the  phalanx  consisted  of  an  aggregate  of  eighteen 
thousand  men,  who  were  divided  into  six  brigades  of  three 
thousand  each.  These  were  again  subdivided  into  regiments 
and  companies  ;  and  the  men  were  carefully  trained  to  wheel, 
to  face  aboiit,  to  take  more  ground,  or  to  close  up,  as  the  emer- 
gencies of  the  battle  required.  Alexander  also  arrayed  troops 
armed  in  a  different  manner  in  the  intervals  of  the  regiments  of 
his  phalangites,  who  could  prevent  their  line  from  being  pierced, 
and  their  companies  taken  in  flank,  when  the  nature  of  the 
ground  prevented  a  close  formation,  and  who  could  be  with- 
drawn when  a  favorable  opportunity  arrived  for  closing  up  the 
phalanx  or  any  of  its  brigades  for  a  charge,  or  when  it  was 
necessary  to  prepare  to  receive  cavalry. 

Besides  the  phalanx,  Alexander  had  a  considerable  force  of 
infantry  who  were  called  Shield-bearers:  they  werefnot  so  heavily- 
armed  as  tha  phalangites,   or  as  was  the   case  with   the  Greek 

*  See  Nlebunr's  "  Hist,  of  Rome,"  vol.  111.,  p.  460.  t  See  Nletoulir. 


BATTLE  OF  ABB  EL  A.  6/ 

regular  infantry  in  general,  but  they  -were  eqtaipped  for  close  fight 
as  well  as  for  skirmishing,  and  were  far  superior  to  the  ordinary 
irregular  troops  of  Greek  warfare.  They  were  about  six  thousand 
strong.  Besides  these,  he  had  several  bodies  of  Greek  regular 
infantry;  and  he  had  archers,  slingers,  and  javelin-men,  who  fought 
also  with  broadsword  and  target,  and  who  were  principally  sup- 
plied by  the  highlanders  of  lllyra  and  Thracia.  The  main 
strength  of  his  cavalry  consisted  in  two  chosen  regiments  of 
cuirassiers,  one  Macedonian  and  one  Thessalian,  each  of  which 
was  about  fifteen  hundred  strong.  They  were  provided  Avith  long 
lances  and  heavy  swords,  and  horse  as  well  as  man  M-as  fully 
equipped  with  defensive  armor.  Other  regiments  of  regular 
cavalry  were  less  heavily  armed,  and  there  were  several  bodies  of 
light  horsemen,  whom  Alexander's  conquests  in  Egypt  and  Syria 
had  enabled  him  to  mount  superbly. 

A  little  before  the  end  of  August,  Alexander  crossed  the  Euphrates 
at  Thapsacus,  a  small  corps  of  Persian  cavalry  under  Mazaeus 
retiring  before  him.  Alexander  was  too  prudent  to  march  down 
through  the  Mesopotamian  deserts,  and  continued  to  advance 
eastward  'n-ith  the  intention  of  passing  the  Tigris,  and  then,  if  he 
was  unable  to  find  Darius  and  bring  him  to  action,  of  marching 
southward  on  the  left  side  of  that  river  along  the  skirts  of  a  moun- 
tainous district  where  his  men  would  sufler  less  from  heat  and 
thirst,  and  where  provisions  would  be  more  abundant. 

Darius,  finding  that  his  adversary  was  not  to  be  enticed  into  the 
march  through  Mesopotamia  against  his  capital,  determined  to 
remain  on  the  battle-ground,  which  he  had  chosen  on  the  left  of 
the  Tigris;  where,  if  his  enemy  met  a  defeat  or  a  check,  the  de- 
struction of  the  invaders  would  be  certain  with  two  such  rivers  as 
the  Euphrates  and  the  Tigris  in  their  rear.  The  Persian  king 
availed  himself  to  the  utmost  of  every  advantage  in  his  power.  He 
caused  a  large  space  of  ground  to  be  carefully  leveled  for  the  oper- 
ation of  his  scythe-armed  chariots;  and  he  deposited  his  military 
stores  in  the  strong  town  of  Arbela,  about  twenty  miles  in  his  rear. 
The  rhetoricians  of  after  ages  have  loved  to  describe  Darius  Codo- 
manus  as  a  second  Xerxes  in  ostentation  and  imbecility;  but  a 
fair  examination  of  his  generalship  in  this  his  last  campaign 
shows  that  he  was  worthy  of  bearing  the  same  name  as  his  great 
predecessor,  the  royal  son  of  Hystaspes. 

( 'n  learning  that  Darius  was  with  a  large  army  on  the  left  of  the 
Tigris,  Alexander  hurried  forward  and  crossed  that  river  without 
opposition.  He  was  at  first  unable  to  procure  any  certain  intelli- 
gence of  the  precise  position  of  the  enemy,  and  after  giving  his 
army  a  short  interval  of  rest,  he  marched  for  four  days  down  the 
left  bank  of  the  river.  A  moralist  may  pause  upon  the  fact  that 
Alexander  must  in  tliis  march  have  passed  within  a  few  miles  of 
the  ruins  of  Nineveh,  the  great  city  of  the  primaeval  conquerera  of 
the  human  race.    Neither  the  Macedoman  king  nor  any  of  his  fol- 


68  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

lowers  knew  what  those  vast  mounds  had  once  been.  They  had 
already  sunk  in  utter  destruction;  and  it  is  only  within  the  last 
few  years  that  the  intellectual  energy  of  one  of  our  own  countrymen 
has  rescued  Nineveh  from  its  long  centuries  of  oblivion.* 

On  the  fourth  day  of  Alexander's  southward  march,  his  advanced 
guard  reported  that  a  body  of  the  enemy's  cavalry  was  in  sight. 
He  instantly  formed  his  army  in  order  for  battle,  and  directing 
them  to  advance  steadily,  he  rode  forward  at  the  head  of  some 
squadrons  of  cavalry,  and  charged  the  Persian  horse  whom  ho 
found  before  him.  This  was  a  mere  reconnoitering party,  and  they 
broke  and  fled  immediately;  but  the  Macedonians  made  some 
prisoners,  and  from  them  Alexander  found  that  Darius  was  posted 
only  a  few  miles  off,  and  learned  the  strength  of  the  army  that  ho 
had  with  him.  On  receiving  this  news  Alexander  halted,  and  gave 
his  men  re^Dose  for  four  days,  so  that  they  should  go  into  action 
fresh  and  vigorous.  He  also  fortified  his  camp  and  deposited  in 
it  all  his  military  stores,  and  all  his  sick  and  disabled  soldiers, 
intending  to  advance  upon  the  enemy  with  the  serviceable  part  of 
his  army  perfectly  unencumbered.  After  this  halt,  he  moved 
forward,  while  it  was  yet  dark,  with  the  intention  of  reaching  the 
enemy,  and  attacking  them  at  break  of  day.  About  half  way 
between  the  camps  there  were  some  undulations  of  the  ground, 
which  concealed  the  two  armies  from  each  other's  view;  but,  on 
Alexander  arriving  at  their  summit,  he  saw,  by  the  early  light,  the 
Persian  host  arrayed  before  him,  and  he  probably  also  observed 
traces  of  some  engineering  operation  having  been  carried  on  along 
part  of  the  ground  in  front  of  them.  Not  knowing  that  these 
marks  had  been  caused  by  the  Persians  having  leveled  the  ground 
for  the  free  use  of  their  war-chariots,  Alexander  suspected  that 
hidden  pitfalls  had  been  prepared  with  a  view  of  disordering  the 
approach  of  his  cavalry.  He  summoned  a  council  of  war  forthwith. 
Some  of  the  officers  were  for  attacking  instantly,  at  all  hazards; 
but  the  more  prudent  opinion  of  Parmenio  prevailed,  and  it  was 
determined  not  to  advance  further  till  the  battle-ground  had  been 
careftilly  surveyed. 

Alexander  halted  his  army  on  the  heights,  and,  taking  with  him 
6ome  light-armed  infantry  and  some  cavalry,  he  passed  part  of  the 
day  in  reconnoitering  the  enemy,  and  observing  the  nature  of  the 
ground  which  he  had  to  fight  on.  Darius  wisely  refrained  from 
moving  his  position  to  attack  the  Macedonians  on  the  eminences 
which  they  occupied,  and  the  two  armies  remained  until  night 
without  molesting  each  other.  On  Alexander's  return  to  his  head- 
quarters, he  summoned  his  generals  and  superior  officers  together, 
and  telling  them  that  he  well  knew  that  their  zeal  wanted  no  exhor- 
tation, he  besought  them  to  do  their  utmost  in  encouraging  and 

*  See  Layard's  "Nlneveli,"  and  see  Vaux'a  "Nineveh  and  Persepolis,'' 
p.  16. 


BATTLE  OF  ABBELA.  69 

instmcting  those  -ffhom  each  commanded,  to  do  their  best  in  the 
next  day's  battle.  They  were  to  remind  them  that  they  were  now 
not  going  to  fight  for  a  province  as  they  had  hitherto  fought,  but 
they  were  about  to  decide  by  their  swords  the  dominion  of  all 
Asia.  Each  ofticer  ought  to  impress  this  upon  his  subalterns,  and 
,they  should  urge  it  on  their  men.  Their  natiiral  courage  required 
no  long  words  to  excite  its  ardor;  but  they  should  be  reminded  of 
the  paramount  imjiortance  of  steadiness  in  action.  The  silence  in 
the  ranks  miist  be  unbroken  as  long  as  silence  was  projDer;  but 
.when  the  time  came  for  the  charge,  the  shout  and  the  cheer  must 
be  full  of  terror  for  the  foe.  The  officers  were  to  be  alert  in  receiv- 
ing and  communicating  orders;  and  every  one  was  to  act  as  if  he 
felt  that  the  whole  result  of  the  battle  depended  on  his  own  single 
good  conduct. 

Having  thus  briefly  instructed  his  generals,  Alexander  ordered 
that  the  army  should  sup,  and  take  their  rest  for  the  night. 

Darkness  had  closed  over  the  tents  of  the  Macedonians,  when 
Alexander's  veteran  general,  Parmenio,  came  to  him,  and  i^roposed 
that  they  should  make  a  night  attack  on  the  Persians.  The  king 
is  said  to  have  answered  that  he  scorned  to  filch  a  victory,  and  that 
Alexander  must  conquer  openly  and  fairly.  Adrian  jiistly  re- 
marks that  Alexander's  resolution  was  as  wise  as  it  was  spirited. 
Besides  the  confiision  and  uncertainty  which  are  inseparable  from 
night  engagements,  the  value  of  Alexander's  victory  would  have 
been  impaired,  if  gained  under  circumstances  which  might  supply 
the  enemy  with  any  excuse  for  Lis  defeat,  and  encouraged  him  to 
renew  the  contest.  It  was  necessary  for  Alexander  not  only  to  beat 
Darius,  but  to  gaiissuch  a  victory  as  should  leave  his  rival  without 
apology  and  without  hope  of  recovery. 

The  Persians,  in  fact,  expected,  and  were  prepared  to  meet  a 
night  attack.  Such  was  the  ai^prehension  that  Darius  entertained 
of  it,  that  he  formed  his  troops  at  evening  in  order  of  battle,  and 
kept  them  under  arms  all  night.  The  efiect  of  this  was,  that  the 
morning  found  them,  jaded  and  dispirited,  while  it  brought  their 
adversaries  all  fresh  and  vigorous  against  them. 

The  written  order  of  battle  which  Darius  himself  caused  to  be 
drawn  up,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Macedonians  after  the  engage- 
ment, and  Ai'istobulus  copied  it  into  his  journal.  "We  thiis  possess, 
.  through  Adrian,  unusually  authentic  information  as  to  the  comi^o- 
Bition  and  arrangement  of  the  Persian  army.  On  the  extreme  left 
were  the  Bactrian,  Daan,  and  Arachosian  cavalry.  Next  to  these 
Darius  placed  the  troops  from  Persia  proper,  both  horse  and  foot. 
Then  came  the  Susians,  and  next  to  these  the  Cadusians.  These 
forces  made  up  the  left  wing.  Darius's  own  station  was  in  the 
center.  This  was  composed  of  the  Indians,  the  Carians,  the  Mar- 
dian  archers,  and  the  division  of  Persians  who  were  distinguished 
by  the  golden  apples  that  formed  the  knobs  of  their  spears.  Hero 
also  were  stationed  the  body-guard  of  the  Persian  nobility.    Besides 


70  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

these,  there  were,  in  the  center,  formed  in  deep  order,  the  Uxian 
and  Babylonian  troops,  and  the  soldiers  from  the  Eed  Sea.  The 
brigade  of  Greek  mercenaries,  whom  Darius  had  in  his  service, 
and  who  alone  were  considered  fit  to  stand  the  charge  of  the  Mace- 
donian phalanx,  was  drawn  up  on  either  side  of  the  royal  chariot. 
The  right  wing  was  composed  of  the  Ccelosyrians  and  Mesopota- 
mians,  the  Medes,  the  Parthians,  the  Sacians,  the  Tai^urians, 
Hycanians,  Albanians,  and  Sacesinae.  In  advance  of  the  line  on  the 
left  wing  were  placed  the  Scythian  cavalry, with  a  thousand  of  the 
Bactrian  horse,  and  a  hundred  scythe-armed  chariots.  The  ele- 
phants and  fifty  scythe-armed  chariots  were  ranged  in  front  of  the 
center,  and  fifty  more  chariots,  with  the  Armenian  and  Cappado- 
cian  cavalry,  were  drawn  up  in  advance  of  the  right  wing. 

Thus  an-ayed,  the  great  host  of  King  Darius  passed  the  night, 
that  to  many  thousands  of  them  was  the  last  of  their  existence. 
The  morning  of  the  first  of  October,*  two  thousand  one  hundred 
and  eighty-two  years  ago,  daM'ned  slowly  to  their  wearied  watch- 
ing, and  they  could  hear  the  note  of  the  Macedonian  trumjiet 
sounding  to  arms,  and  could  see  King  Alexander's  forces  descend 
from  their  tents  on  the  heights,  and  form  in  order  of  battle  on  the 
plain. 

There  was  deep  need  of  skill,  as  well  as  of  valor,  on  Alexander's 
side;  and  few  battle-fields  have  witnessed  more  consummate 
generalship  than  was  displayed  by  the  Macedonian  king.  There 
were  no  natural  barriers  by  which  he  could  protect  his  fianks;  and 
not  only  was  he  certain  to  be  overlapped  on  either  wing  by  the 
vast  lines  of  the  Persian  army,  but  there  was  imminent  risk  of  their 
circling  round  him,  and  charging  him  in  the  rear,  while  he  ad- 
vanced against  their  center.  He  formed,  therefore,  a  second  or 
reserve  line,  which  was  to  wheel  round,  if  required,  or  to  detach 
troops  to  either  flank,  as  the  enemy's  movements  might  necessitate; 
and  thus,  with  their  whole  army  ready  at  any  moment  to  be  thrown 
into  one  vast  hollow  square,  the  Macedonians  advanced  in  two 
lines  against  the  enemy,  Alexander  himself  leading  on  the  right 
•wing,  and  the  renowned  phalanx  forming  the  center,  while  Par- 
menio  commanded  on  the  left. 

Such  was  the  general  nature  of  the  disposition  which  Alexander 
made  of  his  army.  But  we  have  in  Arrian  the  details  of  the  posi- 
tion of  each  brigade  and  regiment  ;  and  as  we  know  that  these 
details  were  taken  from  the  journals  of  Macedonian  generals,  it  is 
interesting  to  examine  them,  and  to  read  the  names  and  stations 
of  King  Alexander's  generals  and  colonels  in  this,  the  greatest  of 
his  battles . 

The  eight  regiments  of  the  royal  horse-guards  formed  the  right  of 

«  See  Clinton's  "  Fasti  Hellenicl."    The  battle  was  fought  eleven  days 
after  an  eclipse  of  the  moon,  which  gives  the  means  ol  flxing  the  precise 
ate. 


BATTLE  OF  ABB  EL  A.  71 

Alexander's  line.  Their  colonels  -were  Cleitus  (whose  regiment  was 
on  the  extreme  right,  the  post  of  peculiar  danger),  Ghtucias,  Aris- 
ton,  Sopolis,  Heracleides,  Demetrias,  Meleager,  and  Hegelochus. 
Philotas  was  general  of  the  whole  division.  Then  came  the  Shield- 
bearing  infantry  :  Nicanorwas  their  general.  Then  came  the  pha- 
lanx in  six  brigades.  Ccenus's  brigade  was  on  the  right,  and  nearest 
to  the  Shield-bearers  ;  next  to  this  stood  the  brigade  of  Perdiccas, 
then  Meleager's,  then  Polyp  erchon's  ;  and  then  the  brigade  of 
Amynias,  but  which  was  now  commanded  by  Simmias,  as  Amynias 
had  been  sent  to  Macedonia  to  levy  recruits.  Then  came  the  infantry 
of  the  left  wing,  under  the  command  of  Craterus.  Next  to  Crate- 
rus's  infantry  were  placed  the  cavalry  regiments  of  the  allies,  with 
Eriguius  for  their  general.  The  Thessalian  cavalry,  commanded  by 
Philippus,  were  next,  and  held  the  extreme  left  of  the  whole  army. 
The  whole  left  wing  was  entrusted  to  the  command  of  Parmenio, 
who  had  round  his  person  the  Phalian  regiment  of  cavalry,  which 
was  the  strongest  and  best  of  all  the  Thessalian  horse  regiments. 

The  center  of  the  second  line  was  occupied  by  a  body  of  phalan- 
gite  infantry,  formed  of  companies  which  were  drafted  for  this 
purjaose  from  each  of  the  brigades  of  their  phalanx.  The  officers  in 
command  of  this  corps  were  ordered  to  be  ready  to  face  about,  if 
the  enemy  should  succeed  in  gaining  the  rear  of  the  army.  On 
the  right  of  this  reserve  of  infantry ,  in  the  second  line,  and  behind 
the  royal  horse-guards,  Alexander  placed  half  the  Agrian  light- 
armed  infantry  under  Attalus,  and  with  them  Brison's  body  of 
Macedonian  archers  and  Cleander's  regiment  of  foot.  He  also 
placed  in  this  part  of  his  army  Menida's  squadron  of  cavalry,  and 
Artes's  and  Ariston's  light  horse.  Menidas  was  ordered  to  watch 
if  the  enemy's  cavalry  tried  to  turn  their  flank,  and,  if  they  did  so, 
to  charge  them  before  they  wheeled  completely  round,  and  take 
them  in  flank  themselves.  A  similar  force  was  arranged  on  the 
left  of  the  second  line  for  the  same  purpose.  The  Thracian  in- 
fantry of  Stitalces  were  placed  there,  and  Coeranus's  regiment  of 
the  cavalry  ofthe  Greek  allies,  and  Agathon's  troops  of  the  Odrysian 
irregular  horse.  The  extreme  left  of  the  second  line  in  this  quarter 
was  held  by  Andromachus's  cavalr3\  A  division  of  the  Thracian 
infantry  was  left  in  guard  of  the  camp.  In  advance  of  the  right 
wing  and  center  was  scattered  a  number  of  light-armed  troops, 
of  javelin-men  and  bow-men,  with  the  intention  of  warding  off  the 
charge  of  the  armed  chariots.* 

Conspicuous  by  the  brilliancy  of  his  armor,  and  by  the  chosen 
band  of  officers  who  were  roimd  his  person,  Alexander  took  his 
own  station,  as  his  custom  was,  in  the  right  wing,  at  the  head  of  his 

*  Klebcr's  arranRcmcnt  of  his  troops  at  the  battle  of  Ilellopolls,  where, 
with  ten  thousand  Europeans,  he  had  to  encoimter  eighty  thousand  Asiatics 
In  an  open  plain,  Is  worth  comparing  with  Alexander's  tactics  at  Arbelft. 
Bee  U'hlers'B  "  lllstolro  du  consulat,"  &c.,  vol,  11.,  llvre  v. 


75  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

cavalry  ;  and  wlien  all  the  arranfTements  for  the  battle  v^^Gre  com- 
ploto,  and  his  generals  were  fully  instructed  how  to  act  in  each 
probable  emergency,  he  began  to  lead  his  men  toward  the  eneiay. 
It  was  ever  his  custom  to  expose  his  life  freely  in  battle,  and  to 
emulate  the  personal  prowess  of  his  great  ancestor,  Achilles.  Per- 
haps, in  the  bold  enterprise  of  conquering  Persia,  it  was  politic 
for  Alexander  to  raise  his  army's  daring  to  the  utmost  by  the  ex- 
ample of  his  own  heroic  valor  ;  and,  in  his  subsequent  campaigns, 
the  love  of  excitement,  of  "the  raptures  of  the  strife,"  may  have 
made  him,  like  Murat,  continue  from  choice  a  ciistom  which  he 
commenced  from  duty.  But  he  never  suffered  the  ardor  of  a  soldier' 
to  make  him  loose  the  coolness  of  the  general,  and  at  Arbela,  in 
particular,  he  showed  that  he  could  act  up  to  his  favorite  Homeric 
maxim  of  being 

'AjucpoTEpov,  f5a6iXevi  r  dyaOui  Jiparspoi  t  aixi-irjT7]i. 

Great  reliai^ce  had  been  placed  by  the  Persian  king  on  the  effect 
of  the  scythe-bearing  chariots.  It  was  designed  to  laiinch  these 
against  the  Macedonian  phalanx,  and  to  followthcm  up  by  aheavy 
charge  of  cavalry,  which,  it  was  hoped,  would  find  the  ranks  of  the 
spearmen  disordered  by  the  rush  of  the  chariots,  and  easilj'  destroy 
this  most  formidable  part  of  Alexander 'sforce.  In  front,  therefore, 
of  the  Persian  center,  where  Darius  took  his  station,  and  which  it 
was  supposed  the  phalanx  would  attack,  the  ground  had  been  care- 
fully leveled  and  smoothed,  so  as  to  allow  the  chariots  to  charge 
over  it  with  their  full  sweep  and  speed.  As  the  Macedonian  army 
approached  the  Hersiiin,  Alexander  found  that  the  front  of  his 
whole  line  barely  equalled  the  front  line  of  the  Persian  center,  so 
that  he  was  outllanked  on  the  right  by  the  entire  left  wing  of  the 
enemy,  and  by  their  entire  right  wing  on  the  left.  His  tactics  were 
to  assail  some  one  point  of  the  hostile  army,  and  gain  a  decisive 
advantage,  while  he  refused,  as  far  as  possible  the  encounter  along 
the  rest  of  the  line.  He  therefore  inclined  his  order  of  march  to 
the  right,  so  as  to  enable  his  right  wing  and  center  to  come  into 
collision  with  the  enemy  on  as  favorable  terms  as  possible,  al- 
though the  maneuver  might  in  some  respect  comjiromise  his  left. 

The  effect  of  this  oblique  morement  was  to  bring  the  phalanx 
and  his  own  wing  nearly  beyond  the  limits  of  the  ground  which 
the  Persians  had  prepared  for  the  operations  of  the  chariots;  and 
Darius,  fearing^o  lose  the  benefit  of  this  arm  against  the  most  im- 
portant parts  of  the  Macedonian  force,  ordered  the  Scythian  and 
Bactrian  cavalry,  who  were  drawn  up  in  advance  on  his  extreme 
left,  to  charge  round  upon  Alexander's  right  wing,  and  check  its 
further  lateral  progress.  Against  these  assailants  Alexander  sent 
from  his  second  line  Menidas's  cavalry.  As  these  proved  too  few 
to  make  head  against  the  enemy,  he  ordered  Ariston  also  from  the 
second  line  with  Ixis  light  horse,  and  Oleander  with  his  foot,  in 
w'^pport  of  Menidas.     The  Bactrian?  and  Scythiaas  now  began  to 


BATTLE  OF  ARBELA.  73 

give  'way,  out  Darius  re-enforced  them  by  the  mass  of  Bactrian 
cavalry  from  his  main  line,  and  an  obstinate  ciivalry  fight  now 
took  place.  The  Bactrians  and  Scythians  were  numerous,  and 
were  better  armed  tlmn  the  horseman  under  Menidas  and  Aris- 
ton;  and  the  loss  at  firht  was  heaviest  on  the  Macedonian  side. 
But  still  tlie  European  cavalry  stood  the  charge  of  the  Asiatics, 
and  at  last,  by  their  superior  discipline,  and  by  acting  in  squad- 
rons that  supported  each  other,*  instead  of  fighting  in  a  confused 
mass  like  the  barbarians,  the  Macedonians  broke  their  adversaries, 
and  drove  them  ofi"  the  field. 

Darius  now  directed  the  scythe-armed  chariots  to  be  driven 
against  Alexander's  horse-guards  and  the  phalanx,  and  these  for- 
midable vehicles  were  accordingly  sent  rattling  across  the  i)lain, 
against  the  Macedonian  line.  When  we  remember  the  alarm  which 
the  war  chariots  of  the  Britons  created  among  Caisar's  legions, 
we  shall  not  be  prone  to  deride  this  arm  of  ancient  warfare  as  al- 
ways useless.  The  object  of  the  chariot  was  to  create  unsteadiness 
in  the  ranks  against  which  they  were  driven,  and  squadrons 
of  cavalry  followed  close  upon  them  to  profit  by  such  disorder. 
But  the  Asiatic  chariots  were  rendered  ineflective  at  Arbela  by  the 
light-armed  troops,  whom  Alexander  had  specially  appointed  for 
the  service,  and  who,  woiinding  the  horses  and  drivers  with  their 
missile  weapons,  and  running  along-side  so  as  to  cut  the  traces 
or  seize  the  reins,  marred  the  intended  charge;  and  the  few 
chariots  that  reached  the  phalanx  passed  harmlessly  through  the 
inters-als  which  the  spearmen  opened  for  them,  and  were  easily 
captnred  in  the  rear. 

A  mass  of  Asiatic  cavalry  was  now,  for  the  second  time,  collect- 
ed against  Alexander's  extreme  right,  and  moved  round  it,  with 
the  v^ew  of  gaining  the  flank  of  his  army.  At  the  critical  moment, 
when  their  own  flanks  were  exposed  by  this-i  evolution,  Aretes 
dashed  on  the  Persian  squadrons  with  his  horsemen  from  Alexan- 
der's second  line.     While  Alexander  thus  met  and  bafiled  all  the 

•!/iA/\a  Hai  cS?  ra5  rtpodf^oXdi  avTwv  eSixovro  oiMaxeSo- 
vei,  xai  coio  xar  iXai  itpo6iti7CrovTEi  l^ooOovv  £H  riji  rdiecoi. 
— Akrian,  lib.  iii.,  c.  13. 

The  best  explanatinn  of  this  may  'be  f  ouncl  In  Napoleon's  account  of  the 
cavalry  tights  between  the  French  and  the  Mamelukes.  "  Two  Mamelukes 
were  able  to  make  head  against  three  Frenchmen,  because  they  were  better 
armed,  better  motmtcd,  and  better  trained  ;  they  had  two  pair  of  pistols,  a 
blunderbuss,  a  carabine,  a  helmet  with  a  visor,  and  a  coat  of  mall;  they  had 
several  horses,  and  several  attendants  on  loot.  One  hundred  e\iirasslers, 
however,  were  not  alrald  of  one  hundred  Mamelukes;  three  liundrcd  could 
beat  an  equal  number,  and  one  thousand  could  easily  pi'.t  to  tlie  rout  lifteen 
hundred  so  great  Is  the  Influence  of  tactics,  order,  and  ivoliitions !  Leclerc 
andLasalle  presented  their  men  to  tlie  Mamelukes  In  several  lines.  When 
the  Arabs  were  on  the  point  of  overwhelming  tin;  lirst,  the  s<^(ind  came  to 
Itsjvssistance  on  the  right  and  left;  tlio  Mamelulicsthenhaltedand  wlieeled, 
In  order  to  turn  the  wings  of  this  new  line  ;  this  moment  was  always  seiz- 
ed upon  to  charge  tlieni,  and  tliey  wrre  unlfonuly  broken."— Momuolon'8 
•'  History  of  Captivity  ol  Isapoleon,"  voL  Iv..  u.  TO. 


74  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

flanking  attacks  of  the  enemy  -with  troops  brought  np  from  Lis 
second  line,  he  kept  his  own  horse-guards  and  the  rest  of  the  front 
line  of  his  wing  fresh,  and  ready  to  take  advantage  of  the  first  op- 
portunity for  striking  a  decisive  blow.  This  soon  came.  A  large 
body  of  horse,  who  were  posted  on  the  Persian  left  wing  nearest 
to  the  center,  quitted  their  station,  and  rode  off  to  help  their  com- 
rades in  the  cavalry  fight,  that  still  was  going  on  at  the  extreme 
right  of  Alexander's  wing  against  the  detachments  from  his  second 
line.  This  made  a  huge  gap  in  the  Persian  array,  and  into  this 
Bpace  Alexander  instantly  charged  with  his  guard  and  all  the  cav- 
alry of  his  wing;  and  then  pressing  toward  his  left,  he  soon  began 
to  make  havoc  in  the  left  flank  of  the  Persian  center.  The 
Shield-bearing  infantry  now  charged  also  among  the  reeling  masses 
of  the  Asiatics;  and  five  of  the  brigades  of  the  phalanx,  with 
the  irrestible  might  of  their  sarisas,  bore  down  the  Greek  mercen-  . 
nries  of  Darius,  and  dug  their  way  through  the  Persian  center.  In 
the  early  part  of  the  battle  Darius  had  showed  skill  and  energy; 
and  he  now,  for  some  time,  encouraged  his  men,  by  voice  and 
example,  to  keep  firm.  Biit  the  lances  of  Alexander's  cavalry  and 
the  pikes  of  the  phalanx  now  pressed  nearer  and  nearer  to  him. 
His  charioteer  was  struck  down  by  a  javelin  at  his  side;  and  at 
last  Darius's  nerve  failed  him,  and,  descending  from  his  chariot, 
he  mounted  on  a  fleet  horse  and  galloped  from  the  plain,  regard- 
less of  the  state  of  the  battle  in  other  parts  of  the  field,  where 
matters  were  going  on  much  more  favorably  for  his  cause,  and 
where  his  i^resence  might  have  done  much  toward  gaining  a  vic- 
tory. 

Alexander's  operations  ■with  his  light  and  center  had  exposed 
his  left  to  an  immensely  prejaonderating  force  of  the  enemy.  Par- 
menio  kept  out  of  action  as  long  as  possible;  but  Mazacus,  who 
commanded  the  Persian  right  wing,  advanced  against  him,  com- 
pletely outflanked  him,  and  pressed  him  severely  with  reiterated 
charges  by  suiDerior  numbers.  Seeing  the  distress  of  Parmenio's 
wing,  Simmias,  who  commanded  the  sixth  brigade  of  the  phalanx, 
which  was  next  to  the  left  wing,  did  not  advance  with  the  other 
brigades  in  the  great  charge  uj^on  the  Persian  center,  but  kept 
back  to  cover  Parmenio's  troops  on  their  right  flank,  as  otherwise 
they  would  have  been  completely  surrounded  and  cut  off  from  the 
rest  of  the  Macedonian  army.  By  so  doing,  Simmias  had  un- 
avoidably opened  a  gap  in  the  Macedonian  left  center,  and  a  large 
column  of  Indian  and  Persian  horse  from  the  Persian  right  center, 
had  galloped  forward  through  this  interval,  and  right  through  the 
troojas  of  the  Macedonian  second  line.  Instead  of  then  wheeling 
around  upon  Parmenio,  or  upon  the  rear  of  Alexander's  conquer- 
ing wing,  the  Indian  or  Persian  cavalry  rode  straight  on  to  tho 
Macedonian  camp,  overpowered  the  Thracians  who  were  left  in 
charge  of  it,  and  began  to  plunder.  This  was  stopped  by  the 
phalangite  troops  of  the  second  line,  who,  after  the  enemy's  horse- 


BATTLE  OF  ABBELA.  75 

men  had  rnstied  by  them,  faced  about,  countermarched  upon  the 
camp,  killed  many  of  the  Indians  and  Persians  in  the  act  of  plun- 
dering, and  forced  the  rest  to  ride  oflf  again.  Just  at  this  crisis, 
Alexander  had  been  recalled  from  his  pursuit  of  Darius  by  tidings 
of  the  distress  of  Parmenio,  and  of  his  inability  to  bear  up  any 
longer  against  the  hot  attacks  of  Maza-us.  Taking  his  horse-guards 
■with  him,  Alexander  rode  toward  the  part  of  the  field  ■where  his 
left  wing  was  fighting;  but  on  his  way  thither  he  encountered  the 
Persian  and  Indian  cavalry,  on  their  return  from  his  camp. 

These  men  now  saw  that  their  only  chance  of  safety  was  to  cut 
their  way  through,  and  in  one  huge  column  they  charged  desper- 
ately upon  the  Macedonian  regiments.  There  was  here  a  close 
hand-to-hand  fight,  which  lasted  some  time,  and  sixty  of  the  royal 
horse-guards  fell,  and  three  generals,  who  fought  close  to  Alexan- 
der's side  were  woimded.  At  length  the  Macedonian  discipline 
and  valor  again  prevailed,  and  a  large  number  of  the  Persian  and 
Indian  horsemen  were  cut  down,  some  few  only  succeeding  in 
breaking  through  and  riding  awaj'.  Eelieved  of  these  obstinate 
enemies,  Alexander  again  formed  his  regiments  of  horse-guards, 
and  led  them  toward  Parmenio;  but  by  this  time  that  general  also 
was  victorious.  Probably  the  news  of  Darius's  flight  had  reached 
Mazasus,  and  had  damped  the  ardor  of  the  Persian  right  ■wing, 
■while  the  tidings  of  their  comrades'  success  must  have  proportion- 
ally encouraged  the  Macedonian  forces  under  Parmenio.  His 
Thessalian  cavalry  particularly  distinguished  themselves  by  their 
gallantry  and  persevering  good  conduct;  and  by  the  time  that 
Alexander  had  ridden  up  to  Parmenio,  the  whole  Persian  army 
was  in  full  flight  from  the  field. 

It  was  of  the  deepest  importance  to  Alexander  to  secure  the  per- 
son of  Darius,  and  he  now  urged  on  the  pursuit.  The  River 
Lycus  was  between  the  field  of  battle  and  the  city  of  Arbela, 
■whither  the  fugitives  directed  their  course,  and  the  passage  of  this 
river  was  even  more  destructive  to  the  Persians  than  the  swords 
fend  spears  of  the  Macedonians  had  been  in  the  engagement.  *  The 
narrow  bridge  was  soon  choked  up  by  the  flying  thousands  who 
rushed  toward  it,  and  vast  numbers  of  the  Persians  threw  them- 
selves, or  were  hurried  by  others,  into  the  rapid  stream,  and  per- 
ished in  its  waters.  Darius  had  crossed  it,  and  had  ridden  on 
through  Arbela  without  halting.  Alexander  reached  that  city  on 
the  next  day,  and  made  himself  master  of  all  Darius's  treasure  and 
Btores;  but  the  Persian  king,  unfortunately  for  himself,  had  fled 
too  fast  for  his  conqucrer,  but  had  only  escaped  to  perish  by  the 
treachery  of  his  Bactrian  satrajp,  Bcssus. 

A  few  days  after  the  battle  Alexander  entered  Babylon,  "  the 

•  I  purposely  omit  any  statement  of  the  loss  In  the  tattle.  There  Is  a  pal- 
pable error  ol  the  transcribers  In  the  numbers  which  we  nnd  In  our  present 
manuscrlpta  of  Arrlan,  and  CurUus  is  ol  no  authorltj . 


76  DECISIVE  BATTLES, 

oldest  seat  of  earthly  empire"  then  in  existence,  m  its  aclmowl- 
odgcd  lord  and  master.  There  were  yet  some  campaigns  of  his 
brief  and  bright  career  to  1)0  accomplished.  Central  Asia  was  yet 
to  witness  the  march  of  his  phalanx.  He  was  yet  to  effect  that 
conquest  of  Afghanistan  in  which  England  since  has  failed.  His 
generalship,  as  well  as  his  valor,  were  yet  to  be  signalized  on  the 
banks  of  the  Hydaspes  and  the  field  of  Chillianwallnh;  and  he  was 
yet  to  precede  the  Queen  of  England  in  annexing  the  Punjaub  to 
the  dominions  of  a  European  sovereign.  But  the  crisis  of  his  ca- 
reer M'as  reached;  the  great  object  of  his  mission  was  accomplished; 
and  the  ancient  Persian  empire,  which  once  menaced  all  the  na- 
tions of  the  earth  with  subjection,  was  irreparably  crushed  when 
Alexander  had  won  his  crowning  victory  at  Arbela. 


Synopsis  of  Events  between   the   Battle   of    Abbela.   and   the 
Battle  of  the  Metaueus. 

B.  C.  330.  The  Lacedajmonians  endeavor  to  create  a  rising  in 
Greece  against  the  Macedonian  jjower;  they  are  defeated  by  An- 
tipater,  Alexander's  viceroy;  and  their  king,  Agis,  falls  in  the 
battle. 

330  to  327.  Alexander's  campaigns  in  Upper  Asia. 

327,  326.  Alexander  marches  through  Afghanistan  to  the  Pun- 
jaub. He  defeats  Porus.  His  troops  refuse  to  march  toward  the 
Ganges,  and  he  commences  the  descent  of  the  Indus.  On  his 
march  he  attacks  and  subdues  several  Indian  tribes — among  others, 
the  Malli,  in  the  storming  of  whose  capital  (Mooltan)  he  is  severely 
v/oiinded.  He  directs  his  admiral,  Nearchus,  to  sail  round 
from  the  Indus  to  the  Persian  Gulf,  and  leads  the  army  back  across 
Scinde  and  Beloochistan. 

324:,  Alexander  returns  to  Babylon.  "  In  the  tenth  year  after  he 
had  crossed  the  Hellespont,  Alexander,  having  won  his  vast  do- 
minion, entered  Babylon;  and  resting  from  his  career  in  that  old- 
est seat  of  earthly  emj^iro,  he  steadily  surveyed  the  mass  of  various 
nations  which  ONvned  his  sovereignty,  and  resolved  in  his  mind 
the  great  work  of  breathing  into  this  huge  but  inert  body  the  living 
spirit  of  Greek  civilization.  In  the  bloom  of  youthful  manhood, 
at  the  age  of  thirty-two,  he  paused  from  the  fiery  speed  of  his 
earlier  course,  and  for  the  first  time  gave  the  nations  an  oppor- 
tunity of  offering  their  homage  before  his  throne.  They  came 
from  all  extremities  of  the  earth  to  propitiate  his  anger,  to  celebrate 
his  greatness,  or  to  solicit  his  protection.  *  *  *  History  may  allow 
■US  to  think  that  Alexander  and  a  Roman  embassador  did  meet  at 
Babylon ;  that  the  greatest  man  of  the  ancient  world  saw  and  spoke 
with  a  citizen  of  that  great  nation  which  was  destined  to  succeed 
him  in  his  appointed  Avork,  and  to  found  a  wider  and  still  mora 


SYNOPSIS  OF  EVENTS  AFTER  AEBELA.  11 

enduring  empire.  They  met,  too,  in  Babylon,  almost  beneath  the 
shadow  of  the  Temple  of  Bel,  perhaps  'the  earliest  monument 
ever  raised  by  human  pride  and  power  in  a  city,  stricken,  as  it 
■were,  by  the  word  of  God's  heaviest  judgment,  as  the  symbol  of 
greatness  apart  from  and  opposed  to  goodness." — (Aunold.)  | 

323.  Alexander  dies  at  Babylon.  On  his  death  being  known  atl, 
Greece,  the  Athenians,  and  others  of  the  southern  states,  take  up 
arms  to  shake  off  the  domination  of  Macedon.  They  are  at  first 
successful;  but  the  return  of  some  of  Alexander's  veterans  from 
Asia  enables  Antipater  to  prevail  over  them. 

317  to  239.  Agathocles  is  tyrant  of  Syracuse,  and  carries  on 
repeated  wars  with  the  Carthaginians,  in  the  course  of  which 
(311)  he  invades  Africa,  and  reduces  the  Carthaginians  to  great 
distress. 

306.  After  a  long  series  of  wars  with  each  other,  and  after  all 
the  heirs  of  Alexander  had  been  murdered,  his  principal  surviv- 
ing generals  assume  the  title  of  king,  each  over  the  jjrovinces 
•which  he  has  occupied.  The  four  chief  among  them  were  An- 
tigonus,  Ptolemy,  Lysimachus,  and  Seleucus.  Antipater  was  now 
dead,  but  his  son  Cassander  succeeded  to  his  power  in  Macedonia 
and  Greece. 

301.  Seleucus  and  Lysimachus  defeat  Antigonus  at  Ipsus.  An- 
tigonus  is  killed  in  the  battle. 

280.  Seleucus,  the  last  of  Alexander's  captains,  is  assassinated. 
Of  all  of  Alexander's  successors,  Seleucus  had  formed  the  most 
powerful  empire.  He  had  acquired  all  the  provinces  between 
Phrygia  and  the  Indus.  He  extended  his  dominion  in  India  be- 
yond the  limits  reached  by  Alexander,  Seleucus  had  some  sparks 
of  his  great  master's  genius  in  promoting  civilization  and  com- 
merce, as  well  as  in  gaining  victories.  Under  his  successors,  the 
SeleucidfB.  this  vast  empire  rapidly  diminished:  Bactria  became 
independent,  and  a  separate  dynasty  of  Greek  kings  ruled  there  in 
the  year  125,  when  it  was  overthrown  by  the  Scythian  tribe.  Par- 
thia  threw  off  its  allegiance  to  the  Seleucidaj  in  250  B.C.,  and  the 
powerful  Parthian  kingdom,  which  afterward  proved  so  formidable 
a  foe  to  Eomo,  absorbed  nearly  all  the  provinces  west  of  the 
Euphrates  that  had  obeyed  the  first  Seleucus.  Before  the  battle 
of  Ipsus,  Mithradates,  a  Persian  prince  of  the  blood-royal  of  the 
Ach£emenid.-B,  had  escaped  to  Pontus,  and  founded  there  the  king- 
dom of  that  name.  , 

Besides  the  kingdom  of  Seleucus,  which,  when  limited  to  Syria, 
Palestine,  and  parts  of  Asia  Minor,  long  survived,  the  most  im- 
portant kingdom  formed  by  a  general  of  Alexander  was  that  of  the 
Ptolemies  in  Egypt.  The  throne  of  Macedonia  was  long  and  ob- 
Btinately  contended  for  liy  Cassander,  Polysperchon,  Lysimachus, 
Pyrrhus,  Antigonus,  and  others,  but  at  last  was  sociired  by  the 
dynasty  of  Antigonus  Gonatas.  .The  old  republics  of  Southern 
Greeo*  suffered  severely  during  these  tumults,  and  the  only  Greek 


73  DECISn^  BATTLES. 

states  that  showed  any  strength  and  spirit  vrero  tho  cities  of  the 
Achaean  league,  the  /Etolians,  and  the  islanders  of  Hhodes. 

2ii0.  R(ime  had  now  thoroughly  subdiied  tho  Samnites  and  the 
Etruscans,  and  had  gained  numerous  victories  over  the  Cisalpine 
Gauls.  ^Vishin^  to  confirm  her  dominion  in  Lower  Italy,  she  be- 
came entangled  in  a  war  with  Pyrrhus,  fourth  king  of  Epirus,  who 
was  callod  over  by  the  Tarentines  to  aid  them.  Pyrrlius  was  at  first 
victorious;,  biit  in  the  year  275  was  defeated  by  the  Koman  legions 
in  a  pitched  battle.  He  returned  to  Greece,  remarking  of  Sicily, 
O'uxy  azoXsiTto^iav  Kapx>/S or loii  xal  'Pooauioti  TtaXaidrpai', 
jRome  becomes  mistress  of  all  Italy  from  the  Bubicon  to  the  Straits 
'of  Messina. 

2'6i.  The  first  Punic  war  hegins.  Its  primary  cause  was  the 
desire  of  both  the  Eomans  and  the  Carthaginians  to  possess  them- 
selves of  Sicily.  The  Ivomans  form  a  tleet,  and  successfully  com- 
pete with  the  marine  of  Carthage.*  During  the  latter  half  of  tho 
war  the  military  genius  of  Hamilcar  Barca  sustains  the  Cartha- 
ginian cause  in  Sicily.  At  the  end  of  twenty-four  j-ears  the  Car- 
thaginians sue  for  peace,  though  their  aggregate  loss  in  ships  and 
men  had  been  less  than  that  sustained  by  the  Komans  since  the 
beginning  of  the  war.     Sicily  becomes  a  Eoman  province. 

2-10  to  218.  Tho  Carthaginian  mercenaries  who  had  been  brought 
back  from  Sicily  to  Afi'ica  mutiny  against  Carthage,  and  nearly 
succeed  in  destroying  her.  After  a  sanguinary  and  desperate 
struggle,  Hamilcar  Earca  crushes  them.  During  the  season  of 
weakness  to  Carthage,  l\ome  takes  from  her  the  island  of  Sardinia. 
Hamilcar  Barca  forms  the  project  of  obtaining  compensation  by 
conquests  in  Spain,  and  thus  enabling  Carthage  to  renew  the 
struggle  with  Eome.  He  tnkes  Hannibal  (then  a  child)  to  Spain 
with  him.  He,  and,  after  his  death,  his  brother  win  great  part  of 
Southern  Spain  to  the  Carthaginian  interest.  Hannibal  obtains 
the  command  of  the  Carthaginian  armies  in  Spain  221  B.C.,  being 
then  twenty-six  years  old.  He  attacks  Saguntum,  a  city  on  the 
Ebro,  in  alliance  with  Borne,  which  is  the  immediate  pretext  for 
the  second  Punic  war. 

During  the  interval  Eome  had  to  sustain  a  storm  from  the  North. 
The  Cisalpine  Gauls,  in  226,  formed  an  alliance  with  one  of  the 
fiercest  tribes  of  their  brethren  north  of  the  Alps,  and  began  a 
furious  war  against  the  Eomans, which  lasted  six  years.  The  Eomans 
gave  them  several  severe  defeats,  and  took  from  them  part  of  their 
territories  near  the  Po.  It  was  on  this  occasion  that  the  Eoman 
colonies  of  Cremona  and  Placentia  were  founded,  the  latter  of 

*  There  is  at  this  present  moment  in  the  Great  Exhibition  at  ITyfle  Parle  a 
model  ot  a  piratical  galley  ot  Labuan,  part  ot  the  mast  ot  which  cati  be  let 
down  on  the  euem.r,  and  form  a  briilpe  for  boarders.  It  is  worth  while  to 
compare  tills  with  tho  account  of  I'olyWus  of  the  tK>ftrtllng  britlges  which 
the  Itoman  lulmlral.  DuUIUls.  affixed  to  tJie  masts  of  his  Fulleys.  and  by 
means  of  whtcu  he  won  his  great  victory  aver  the  carthatrlnlau  neet. 


BATTLE  OF  THE  METAURUS.  79 

which  cHfl  such  essential  service  to  Rome  in  the  second  Punic 
war  by  the  x-esistanco  which  it  made  to  the  army  of  Hasdrubal.  A 
muster-roll  was  made  in  this  war  of  the  cflectivc  military  force  of 
the  llomans  themselves,  and  of  those  Italian  states  that  were  sub- 
ject to  them.  The  returns  showed  a  force  of  seven  hundred  thou- 
sand foot  and  seventy  thousand  horse.  Polybius,  who  mentions 
this  muster,  remarks,  ''Kcp  ovi  Avvi/Jai  IXtxrrovi  exoor  6i6/iv- 
plcjv,  kneiiaXev  eii  ryv  'ItcxXiav. 
21b,  liautiibal  crosses  tho  Alps  and  invades  Italy. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  METAURUS,  B.C.  207. 

Quid  debeas,  O  Koma,  Ncronibiis, 
Testis  Metaurum  lluinon,  ct  llasdrubal 
Dcvlctus.  ot  pulcher  ru,i;atis 
llle  dies  Latlo  teueUris,  &c. 

HORATICS,  IV.  Od.  4. 

Th«  consul  Nero,  who  made  the  uneQuallPd  march  which  deceived  Ifan- 
nlbal  and  defeated  Ilasdrulial,  therehy  accomplislilnp:  an  achievement 
almost  unrivaled  in  milUarv  annals.  The  ilrst  intelligence  ot  his  return,  to 
llanuihal  was  llie  sl^'htof  llasdrubul's  head  thrown  into  his  camp  When 
Hannibal  saw  tliis,  he  c.xelahued,  with  a  sl;4h,  that  "  Home  wonUl  now  be 
the  mistress  of  tlie  world."  'i'o  this  victory  ot  Nero's  It  might  be  owing 
that  his  imperial  namesake  reigned  at  all.  But  the  lulamy  of  the  one  has 
eclipsed  tlie  glory  ot  the  other.  When  the  name  ol  Nero  is  heard,  who 
thinks  ol  the  consul  I   But  such  are  human  things.— Byron. 

About  midway  between  Eimini  and  Ancona  a  little  river  falls 
into  the  Adriatic,  after  traversing  one  of  those  districts  of  Italy  in 
which  n  vain  attempt  has  lately  been  made  to  revive,  after  long 
centuries  of  servitude  and  shame,  tho  spirit  of  Italian  nationality 
and  tho  energy  of  free  institutions.  That  stream  is  still  called 
the  Metauro,  and  wakens  by  its  name  the  recollection  of  tho  reso- 
lute daring  of  ancient  Rome,  and  of  the  slaughter  that  stained 
its  current  two  thousand  and  sixty-three  years  ago,  when  tho  com- 
bined consular  armies  of  Livius  and  Nero  encountered  and 
crushed  near  its  banks  the  varied  liosts  which  Hannibal's  brother 
was  leading  from  the  Pyrenees,  the  Rhone,  the  Alps,  and  the  Po, 
to  aid  the  great  Carthaginian  in  his  stern  struggle  to  annihi- 
late the  growing  might  of  tho  Roman  republic,  and  make  the 
Punic  power  supreme  overall  the  nations  of  the  world. 

Tho  Romau  historian,  who  termed  that  struggle  tho  most  mom- 


80       .  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

orable  of  all  vrars  that  ever  -u-ere  cnrried  on,*  ■wrote  in  the  sinrit  of 
exag<:,'eration  ,  for  it  is  not  in  ancient,  but  in  modern  history,  that 
parallels  for  its  incidents  and  its  heroes  are  to  be  found.  The 
similitude  between  the  contest  which  Home  maintained  against 
Hannibal,  and  that  which  England  was  for  many  years  engaged  in 
against  Napoleon,  has  not  passed  unobserved  by  recent  historians. 
"  Twice,"  says  Arnold, f  "has  there  been  witnessed  the  struggle  of 
the  highest  individual  genius  against  the  resources  and  institu- 
tions of  a  great  nation,  and  in  both  cases  the  nation  has  been  vic- 
torious. For  seventeen  years  Hannibal  strove  against  Kome  ;  for 
sixteen  years  Napoleon  Bonaparte  strove  against  England  :  the 
efforts  of  the  first  ended  in  Zama  ;  those  of  the  second,  in  Water- 
loo." One  point,  however,  of  the  similitude  between  the  two 
wars  has  scarcely  been  adequately  dwelt  on  ;  that  is,  the  remark- 
able parallel  between  the  Homan  general  who  finally  defeated 
the  great  Carthaginian,  and  the  English  general  who  gave  the 
last  deadly  overthrow  to  the  French  emperor.  Scipio  and  "Wel- 
lington both  held  for  many  years  commands  of  high  im^ror- 
tance,  but  distant  from  the  main  theaters  of  warfare.  The  same 
coi;ntry  was  the  scene  of  the  principal  military  career  of  each. 
It  was  in  Spain  that  Scipio,  like  Wellington,  successively  encoun- 
tered and  overthrew  nearly  all  the  subordinate  generals  of  tho 
enemy  before  being  opposed  to  the  chief  champion  and  conquerer 
himself.  Both  Scipio  and  Wellington  restored  their  countrymen's 
confidence  in  arms  when  shaken  by  a  series  of  reverses,  and  each 
of  them  closed  a  long  and  perilous  war  by  a  complete  and  ovei-- 
whelming  defeat  of  the  chosen  leader  and  the  chosen  veterans  of 
the  foe. 

Nor  is  the  parallel  between  them  limited  to  their  military  char- 
acters and  exploits.  Scipio,  like  Wellington,  became  an  important 
leader  of  the  aristocratic  party  among  his  coiintrymen,  and  was 
exposed  to  the  unmeasured  invectives  of  the  violent  section  of  his 
political  antagonists.  When,  early  in  the  last  reign,  an  infuriated 
mob  assaulted  the  Duke  of  Wellington  in  the  streets  of  the  Eng- 
lish capital  on  the  anniversary  of  Waterloo,  England  was  even 
more  disgraced  by  that  outrage  than  Kome  was  by  the  factious  ac- 
cusations which  demagogues  brought  against  Scipio,  but  which  ha 
proudly  repelled  on  the  day  of  trial  by  reminding  the  assembled 
people  that  it  was  the  anniversary  of  the  battle  of  Zama.  Happily, 
a  wiser  and  a  better  spirit  has  now  for  years  pervaded  all  classes  of 
our  community,  and  we  shall  be  spared  the  ignominy  of  having 
worked  oiit  to  the  end  the  parallel  of  national  ingratitude.  Scijiio 
died  a  voluntary  exile  from  the  malevolent  turbulence  of  Eome. 
Englishmen  of  all  ranks  and  politics  have  now  long  united  in 
affectionate  admiration  of  our  modern  Scipio  ;  and  even  those  who 
have  most  widely  differed  from  the  duke  on  legislative  or  adminis- 

*  Llry,  Ub.  xxl..  sec.  1.  t  V(fl.  Hi.,  p.  C3.    See  also  Alison,  iw,sim. 


BATTLE  OF  THE  METAURUS.  81 

trative  qncstions,  forget  what  they  deem  the  political  errors  of  that 
time-honored  head,  while  they  gratefully  call  to  mind  the  laurels 
that  have  wreathed  it. 

Scipio  at  Zfima  trampled  in  the  dust  the  power  of  Carthage,  but 
that  power  had  been  already  irreparably  shattered  in  another 
field,  where  neither  Scipio  nor  Hannibal  commanded.  When  the 
Metaurus  witnessed  the  defeat  and  death  of  Husdrubal,  it  wit- 
nessed the  ruin  of  the  scheme  by  which  alone  Carthage  could  hope 
to  organize  decisive  success — the  scheme  of  enveloping  Rome  at 
once  from  the  north  and  the  south  of  Italy  by  two  chosen  armies, 
,led  by  two  sons  of  Hamilcar.*  That  battle  was  the  determining 
crisis  of  the  contest,  not  merely  between  E.ome  and  Carthage,  but 
between  the  two  great  families  of  the  world,  which  then  made 
Italy  the  arena  of  their  oft-renewed  contest  for  pre-eminence. 

The  French  historian,  Michelet,  whose  "Histoire  Komaine" 
would  have  been  invaluable  if  the  general  industry  and  accuracy 
of  the  writer  had  in  any  degree  equalled  his  originality  and  bril- 
liancy, eloquently  remarks,  "It  is  not  without  reason  that  so 
universal  and  vivid  a  remembrance  of  the  Punic  wars  has  dwelt  in 
the  memories  of  men.  They  formed  no  mere  struggle  to  deter- 
mine the  lot  of  two  cities  or  two  empires  ;  but  it  was  a  strife,  on 
the  event  of  which  depended  the  fate  of  two  races  of  mankind, 
whether  the  dominion  of  the  world  shoiild  belong  to  the  Indo- 
Germanio  or  to  the  Semitic  family  of  nations.  Bear  in  mind  that 
the  first  of  these  comprises,  beside  the  Indians  and  the  Persians, 
the  Greeks,  the  Romans,  and  the  Germans.  In  the  other  are 
ranked  the  Jews  and  the  Arabs,  the Phenicians  and  the  Carthagi- 
nians. On  the  one  side  is  the  genius  of  heroism,  of  art,  and  legisla- 
tion ;  on  the  other  is  the  spirit  of  industry,  of  commerce,  of 
navigation.  The  two  opposite  races  have  every  where  come  into 
contact,  every  where  into  hostility.  In  the  primitive  history  of 
Persia  and  Chaldea,  the  heroes  are  perpetually  engaged  in  combat 
with  their  industriovas  and  perfidious  neighbors.  The  struggle  is 
renewed  between  the  Phenicians  and  the  Greeks  on  every  coast  of 
the  Mediterranean.  The  Greek  stirplants  the  Phenician  in  all  his 
factories,  all  the  companies  in  the  East :  soon  will  the  Roman 
come,  and  do  likewise  in  the  West.  Alexander  did  far  more 
again.st  Tyre  than  Salmanasar  or  Nebuchodonosor  had  done.  Not 
content  with  crushing  her,  he  took  care  that  she  never  should 
revive  ;  for  he  founded  Alexandria  as  her  substitute,  and  changed 
forever  the  track  of  the  commerce  of  the  world.  'J  here  remained 
Carthage — the  great  Carthage,  and  her  mighty  empire — mighty 
in  a  far  different  degree  than  Phenicia's  had  been  Rome  annihi- 
lated it.  Then  occurred  that  which  has  no  parallel  in  history— an 
entire  civilization  perished  at  one  blow — vanished,  like  a  falling 


*  see  Arnold,  vol.  111.,  387, 


82  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

star.     The  "  Periplus  "  of  Haiino,  a  few  ooins,  a  score  of  lines  in 
Plautus,  and,  lo,  all  that  remains  of  the  Carthaginian  world ! 

"Many  generations  must  needs  pass  awny  before  the  stitiggle 
between  the  two  races  could  be  renewed  ;  and  the  Arabs,  that 
formidable  rear-guard  of  the  Semitic  world,  dashed  forth  from 
their  deserts.  The  conflict  between  the  two  races  then  became 
the  conflict  of  two  religions.  Fortunate  was  it  that  those  dar- 
ing Saracenic  cavaliers  encountered  in  the  East  the  impregnable 
■walls  of  Constantinople,  in  the  ^S'est  the  chivalrous  valor  of 
Charles  Martel  and  the  sword  of  the  Cid.  The  crusades  were 
the  natural  reprisals  for  the  Arab  invasions,  and  form  the  last 
opoch  of  that  great  straggle  between  the  two  princii^al  families 
of  the  human  race." 

It  is  difficult,  amid  the  glimmering  light  supplied  by  the  allu- 
sions oi  the  classical  writers,  to  gain  a  full  idea  of  the  character 
and  institution  of  Kome's  great  rival.  But  we  can  perceive 
how  inferior  Carthage  was  to  her  competitor  in  military  resources, 
and  how  far  less  fitted  than  Rome  she  was  to  become  the  founder 
of  centralized  and  centralizing  dominion^  that  should  endure  for 
centuries,  and  fuse  into  imperial  unity  the  narrow  nationalities 
of  the  ancient  races,  that  dwelt  around  and  near  the  shores  of 
the  Mediterranean  Sea, 

Carthage  was  originally  neither  the  most  ancient  nor  the  most 
powerful  of  the  numerous  colonies  which  the  Phenicians  planted 
on  the  coast  of  Northern  Africa.  But  her  advantageous  posi- 
tion, the  excellence  of  her  constitution  (of  which,  though  ill 
informed  as  to  its  details,  we  know  that  it  commanded  the  ad- 
miration of  Aristotle),  and  the  commercial  and  political  energy  of 
her  citizens,  gave  her  ttie  ascendency  over  Hippo,  Utica,  Leptis, 
and  her  other  sister  Phenician  cities  in  those  regions  ;  and  she 
finally  reduced  them  to  a  condition  of  dependency,  similar  to 
that  which  the  subject  allies  of  Athens  occupied  relatively  to 
that  once  imperial  city.  "When  Tyre  and  Sidon,  and  the  other 
cities  of  Phenicia  itself  sank  from  independent  republics  into 
mere  vassal  states  of  the  great  Asiatic  monarchies,  and  obeyed 
by  turns  a  Babylonian,  a  Persian,  and  a  Macedonian  master,  their 
power  and  their  traffic  rapidly  declined,  and  Carthage  succeeded 
to  the  important  maritime  and  commercial  character  which  they 
had  previously  maintained.  The  Carthaginians  did  not  seek  to 
compete  with  the  Greeks  on  the  northeastern  shores  of  the  Med- 
iterranean, or  in  the  three  inland  seas  which  are  connected  with 
it ;  but  they  maintained  an  active  intercourse  with  the  Pheni- 
cians, and  through  them  with  Lower  and  Central  Asia  ;  and  they, 
and  they  alone,  after  the  decline  and  fall  of  Tyre,  navigated  the 
waters  of  the  Atlantic.  They  had  the  monopoly  of  all  the  com- 
merce of  the  world  that  was  carried  on  beyond  the  Straits  of 
Gibraltar.  We  have  yet  extant  (in  a  Greek  translation)  the  narra- 
tive of  the  voyage  of  Hanno,  one  of  their  admirals,  along  the 


BATTLE  OF  THE  METAUBUS.  83 

western  coast  of  Africa  as  far  as  Sierra  Leone  ;  and  in  the  Latin 
poem  of  Festns  Avienus,  frequent  references  are  made  to  the  rec- 
ords of  the  voyages  of  another  celebrated  Carthaginian  admiral, 
Himilco,  who  had  explored  the  northwestern  coast  of  Europe! 
Our  own  islands  are  mentioned  by  Himilco  as  the  lands  of  the 
Hiberni  and  the  Albioni.  It  is  indeed  certain  that  the  Cartha- 
ginians frequented  the  Cornish  coast  (as  the  Phenicians  had 
done  before  them  )  for  the  purjiose  of  procuring  tin  ;  and  there  is 
every  reason  to  believe  that  they  sailed  as  far  as  the  coasts  of 
the  Baltic  for  amber.  "When  it  is  remembered  that  the  mari- 
ners compass  was  unknown  in  those  ages,  the  boldness  and  skill 
of  the  seamen  of  Carthage,  and  the  enterprise  of  her  merchants, 
may  be  paralleled  with  any  achievements  that  the  history  of 
modern  navigation  and  commerce  can  pro"cluce. 

In  their  Atlantic  voyages  along  the  African  shores,  the  Cartha- 
ginians followed  the  double  object  of  traffic  and  colonization. 
The  numerous  settlements  that  were  planted  by  them  along  the 
coast  from  Morocco  to  Senegal  provided  for  the  needy  members 
of  the  constantly  increasing  population  of  a  great  commercial 
capital,  and  also  strengthened  the  influence  which  Carthage  ex- 
ercised among  the  tribes  of  the  African  coast.  Besides  her  fleets, 
her  caravans  gave  her  a  large  and  lucrative  trade  with  the  na- 
tive Africans  ;  nor  must  we  limit  our  belief  of  the  extent  of  the 
Carthaginian  trade  with  the  tribes  of  Central  and  Western  Af- 
rica by  the  narrowness  of  the  commercial  intercourse  which  civil- 
ized nations  of  modern  times  have  been  able  to  create  in  those 
regions. 

Although  essentially  a  mercantile  and  seafaring  people,  the  Car- 
thaginians by  no  means  neglected  agriculture.  On  the  contrary, 
the  whole  of  their  territory  was  cultivated  like  a  garden.  The  fer- 
tility of  the  soil  repaid  the  skill  and  toil  bestowed  on  it;  and  every 
invader,  from  Agathocles  to  Scipio  J^milianus,  was  struck  with  ad- 
miration at  the  rich  pasture  lands  carefully  irrigated,  the  abundant 
harvests,  the  luxuriant  vineyards,  the  plantations  of  fig  and  olivo 
trees,  the  thriving  villages,  the  populous  towns,  and  the  splendid 
villas  of  the  -wealthy  Carthaginians,  through  which  his  march  lay, 
as  long  as  he  was  on  Carthaginian  ground. 

Although  the  Carthaginians  abandoned  .SIgfean  and  the  Pontua 
to  the  Greek,  they  were  by  no  means  disposed  to  relinquish  to 
those  rivals  the  commerce  and  the  dominion  of  the  coasts  of  the 
Mediterranean  westward  of  Italj'.  For  centuries  the  Carthaginians 
strove  to  make  themselves  masters  of  the  islands  that  lie  between 
Italy  and  Spain.  They  acquired  the  Balearic  Islands,  where  the 
principal  harbor,  Port  Mahon,  stills  bears  the  name  of  a  Cartha- 
ginian admiral  They  succeeded  in  reducing  the  greater  part  of 
Sardinia;  but  Sicily  could  never  be  brought  into  their  power. 
They  repeatedly  invaded  that  island,  and  nearly  overran  it:  but 
the  resistance  which  was  opposed  to  them  by  the  Syracusans 


84  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

under  Gelon,  Dionysius,  Timoleon,  and  Agathocles,  preserved  tlie 
island  from  becoming  Punic,  thougli  many  of  its  cities  remained 
Tinder  the  Carthaginian  rule  nntil  Home  finally  settled  the  ques- 
tion to  whom  Sicily  was  to  belong  by  conquering  it  for  herself. 

With  so  many  elements  of  success,  with  almost  unbounded 
wealth,  with  commei'cial  and  maritime  activity,  with  a  fertile  ter- 
ritory, with  a  capital  city  of  almost  impregnable  strength,  with  a 
constitution  that  insured  for  centuries  the  blessing  of  social  order, 
with  an  aristocracy  singularly  fertile  in  men  of  the  highest  genius, 
Carthage  yet  failed  signally  and  calamitously  in  her  contest  for 
power  with  Eome.  One  of  the  immediate  causes  of  this  may  seem 
to  have  been  the  want  of  firmness  among  her  citizens,  which  made 
them  terminate  the  first  Punic  war  by  begging  peace,  sooner  than 
endure  any  longer  the  hardships  and  burdens  caused  by  a  state  of 
warfare,  although  their  antagonist  had  suffered  far  more  severely 
than  themselves.  Another  cause  was  the  spirit  of  faction  among 
their  leading  men,  which  prevented  Hannibal  in  the  second  war 
from  being  properly  re-enforced  and  supiJorted.  But  there  were 
also  more  general  causes  why  Carthage  proved  inferior  to  Eome. 
These  were  her  position  relatively  to  the  mass  of  the  inhabitants 
of  the  country  which  she  ruled,  and  her  habit  of  trusting  to  mer- 
cenary armies  in  her  wars. 

Our  clearest  information  as  to  the  different  races  of  men  in  and 
about  Carthage  is  derived  from  Diodorus  Siculus.*  That  historian 
enumerates  four  different  races:  first,  he  mentions  the  Phenicians 
who  dwelt  in  Carthage;  next,  he  speaks  of  the  Liby-Phenicians: 
these,  he  tells  us,  dwelt  in  many  of  the  maritime  cities,  and  were 
connected  by  intermarriages  with  the  Phenicians,  which  was  the 
cause  of  their  compound  name;  thirdlj%  he  mentions  the  Libyans, 
the  bulk  and  the  most  ancient  part  of  the  population,  hating  the 
Carthaginians  intensely  on  account  of  the  oppressiveness  of  their 
'  domination ;  lastly,  he  names  the  Numidians,  the  nomade  tribes  of 
the  frontier. 

I  It  is  evident,  from  this  description,  that  the  native  Libyans 
iWere  a  subject  class,  without  franchise  or  j^olitical  rights;  and, 
'accordingly,  we  find  no  instance  specified  m  history  of  a  Libyan 
holding  political  ofiice  or  military  command.  The  half-castes,  the 
Liby-Phenicians,  seem  to  have  been  sometimes  sent  oiit  as  colon- 
ists;! but  it  may  be  inferred,  from  what  Diodorus  says  of  their 
residence,  that  they  had  not  the  right  of  the  citizenship  of  Car- 
thage; and  only  a  single  solitary  case  occiirs  of  one  of  this  race 
being  intrusted  with  authority,  and  that,  too,  not  emanating  from 
the  home  government.  This  is  the  instance  of  the  officer  sent  by 
Hannibal  to  Sicily  after  the  fall  of  Syracuse,  whom  Polybius|  calls 
Myttinus  the  Libyan,  but  whom,  from  the  fuller  account  in  Livy, 
we  find  to  have  been  a  Liby-Phenician;§  and  it  is  expressly  men- 

*  Vol.  11.,  p.  44T,  Wessellng's  ed  t  See  the  "  Perlplus  "  ol  nanao. 

J  Lib.  lx„  22.  §  Lib.  XXV.,  40. 


BATTLE  OF  THE  METAVEUS.  85 

tloned  what  indignation  -was  felt  by  tbo  Carthaginian  commanders 
in  the  island  that  this  half-caste  should  control  their  operations. 

With  respect  to  the  comiiosition  of  their  armies,  it  is  observable 
that,  though  thirsting  for  extended  empire,  and  though  some  of 
her  leading  men  became  generals  of  the  highest  order,  the  Car- 
thaginians, as  a  people,  were  any  thing  but  personally  warlike. 
As  long  as  they  could  hire  mercenaries  to  fight  for  them,  they  had 
little  appetite  for  the  irksome  training  and  the  loss  of  valuable 
time  which  military  service  would  have  entailed  on  themselves. 

As  Michokt  remarks,  "  The  life  of  an  industrious  merchant,  of 
a  Carthaginian,  was  too  precious  to  be  risked,  as  long  as  it  was 
possible  to  siibstitute  advantageously  for  it  that  of  a  barbarian 
from  Spain  or  Gaul.  Carthage  knew,  and  could  tell  to  a  drachma, 
what  the  life  of  a  man  of  each  nation  came  to.  A  Greek  was  worth 
more  than  a  Campanian,  a  Campanian  worth  more  than  a  Gaul  or 
a  Spaniard.  When  once  this  tarift'  of  blood  was  correctly  made 
out,  Carthage  began  a  war  as  a  mercantile  speculation.  She  tried 
to  make  conqiiests  in  the  hope  of  getting  new  mines  to  work,  or 
to  open  fresh  markets  for  her  exports.  In  one  venture  she  could 
afford  to  spend  fifty  thousand  mercenaries,  inanother  rnth-r  more. 
If  the  returns  were  good,  there  was  no  regret  felt  for  the  capital 
that  had  been  sunk  in  the  investment;  more  money  got  more  men, 
and  all  went  on  well."* 

Armies  composed  of  foreign  mercenaries  have  in  all  ages  been 
as  formidable  to  their  employers  as  to  the  enemy  against  whom  they 
were  directed.  We  know  of  one  occasion  ^between  the  first  and 
second  Punic  wars^  when  Carthage  was  brought  to  the  very  brink 
of  destruction  by  revolt  of  her  foreign  troops.  Other  mutinies  of 
the  same  kind  must  from  time  to  time  have  occurred.  Probably 
one  of  these  was  the  cause  of  the  comparative  weakness  of  Carthage 
at  the  time  of  the  Athenian  expedition  against  Syracuse,  so  difl'er- 
ent  from  the  energy  with  which  she  attacked  Gelon  half  a  century 
earlier,  and  Dionysius  half  a  century  later.  And  even  when  we 
consider  her  armies  with  reference  only  to  their  eflSciency  in  war- 
fare, we  perceive  at  once  the  inferiority  of  such  bands  of  condoiteri, 
brought  together  without  any  common  bond  of  origin,  tactics,  or 
cause,  to  the  legions  of  Home,  which,  at  the  time  of  the  Punic  wars, 
were  raised  from  the  very  flower  of  a  hardy  agricultural  population, 
trained  in  the  strictest  discipline,  habituated  to  victory,  and  ani-- 
mated  by  the  most  resolute  patriotism.  And  this  shows,  also,( 
the  transcendency  of  the  genius  of  Hannibal,  which  coull 
form  such  discordant  materials  into  a  compact  organized  force, 
and  inspire  them  with  the  spirit  of  patient  discipline  and 
loyalty  to  their  chief,  so  that  they  wore  true  to  him  in 
his  adverse  as  well  as  his  prosperous  fortunes  ;  and  throughoiit 
the    checkered   series   of  his    campaigns,  no    panic    route    ever 

*  "  Jtlstolre  Romalne,''  vol  11.,  p.  40, 


86  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

disgraced  ft  division  under  his  command,  no  mutiny;  or  even 
attempt  at  mutiny,  was  ever  known  in  his  camp  ;  and  finally,  after 
fifteen  years  of  Italian  warfare,  his  men  followed  their  old  leader  to 
Zama,  "with  no  fear  and  little  hope,"*  and  there,  on  that  disastrous 
field,  stoon  firm  around  him,  his  Old  Guard,  till  Scipio's  Numidian 
allies  came  up  on  their  flank,  when  at  last,  surrounded  and  over- 
powered, the  veteran  battalions  sealed  their  devotion  to  their  general 
by  their  blood  ! 

"But  if  Hannibal's  genius  may  be  lik(  ned  to  the  Homeric  god, 
jWho,  in  his  hatred  to  the  Trojans,  rises  from  the  deep  to  rally  the 
[fainting  Greeks  and  to  lead  them  against  the  enemy,  so  the  calm 
courage  with  which  Hector  met  his  more  than  human  adversary  in 
his  country's  cause  is  no  unworthy  image  of  the  unyielding  magna- 
nimity disjilayed  by  the  aristocracy  of  Home.  As  Hannibal  utterly 
eclipses  Carthage,  so,  on  the  contrary,  Fabius,  Marcellus,  Claudius, 
Nero,  evenScipio  himself,  are  nothing  when  compared  to  the  spirit, 
and  wisdom,  and  power  of  Eome.  The  senate,  which  voted  its 
thanks  to  its  political  enemy,  Varro,  after  his  disastrous  defeat,  'be- 
cause he  had  not  despaired  of  the  commonwealth,'  and  which 
disdained  either  to  solicit,  or  to  reprove,  or  to  threaten,  or  in  any 
way  to  notice  the  twelve  colonies  which  had  refused  their  accus- 
tomed supplies  of  men  for  the  army,  is  far  more  to  be  honored  than 
the  conquerer  of  Zama.  This  we  should  the  more  carefully  bear 
in  mind,  because  our  tendency  is  to  admire  individual  greatness 
far  more  than  national  ;  and,  as  no  single  Roman  will  bear  com- 
parison to  Hannibal,  we  are  apt  to  murmur  at  the  event  of  the 
contest,  and  to  think  that  the  victory  was  awarded  to  the  least 
worthy  of  the  combatants.  On  the  contrary,  never  was  the  wisdom 
of  God's  providence  more  manifest  than  in  the  issue  of  the  struggle 
between  Rome  and  Carthage.  It  was  clearly  for  the  good  of  man- 
kind that  Hannibal  should  be  conquered  ;  his  triumph  would  have 
stoi^ped  the  progress  of  the  world  ;  for  great  men  can  only  act  per- 
manently by  forming  great  nations  ;  and  no  one  man,  even  though 
it  were  Hannibal  himself,  can  in  one  generation  effect  such  a  work. 
But  where  the  nation  has  been  merely  enkindled  for  a  while  by  a 
great  man's  spirit,  the  light  passes  away  with  him  who  communi- 
cated it ;  and  the  nation,  when  he  is  gone,  is  like  a  dead  body,  to 
which  magic  power  had  for  a  moment  given  unnatural  life  :  when 
the  charm  has  ceased,  the  body  is  cold  and  stiff  as  before.  He  who 
grieves  over  the  battle  of  Zama  should  carry  on  his  thoughts  to  a 
period  thirty  years  later,  when  Hannibal  must,  in  the  course  of 
nature,  have  been  dead,  and  consider  how  the  isolated  Phenician 
city  of  Carthage  was  fitted  to  receive  and  to  consolidate  the  civili- 
zation of  Greece,  or  by  its  laws  and  institutions  to  bind  together 
barbarians  of  every  race  and  language  into  an  organized  empire, 

*  "  We  advanced  to  Waterloo  as  the  Greeks  did  to  ThermopylEe :  all  of  us 
without  fear,  and  most  of  us  without  hope."— ispsech  of  Getieral  Foy. 


BATTLE  OF  THE  METAUEUS.  87 

and  prepare  them  for  becoming,  when  that  empire  was  dissolved, 
the  free  members  of  the  commonwealth  of  Christian  Europe."* 

It  was  in  the  spring  of  2U7  b.  c.  that  Hasdrubal,  after  skil- 
fully disentangling  himself  and  from  the  Roman  forces  in  Spain, 
and  after  a  march  conducted  with  great  judgment  and  little  loss 
through  the  interior  of  Gaul  and  the  passes  of  the  Alps,  appeared 
in  the  country  that  now  is  the  north  of  Lombardy  at  the  head 
of  troops  which  he  had  partly  brought  out  of  Spain  and  partly 
levied  among  the  Gauls  and  Ligurians  on  his  way.  At  this  time 
Hannibal,  with  his  unconquered  and  seemingly  unconquerable 
army,  had  been  eight  years  in  Italy,  executing  with  streniaous 
ferocity  the  vow  of  hatred  to  Home  which  had  been  sworn  by  him 
while  yet  a  child  at  the  bidding  of  his  father  Hamilcar  ;  who,  as 
he  boasted,  had  trained  up  his  three  sons,  Hannibal,  Hasdrubal, 
and  Mago,  like  three  lion's  whelps,  to  prey  upon  the  Romans. 
But  Hannibal's  latter  campaigns  had  not  been  signalized  by  any 
Buch  great  victories  as  marked  the  first  years  of  his  invasion  of 
Italy.  The  stern  si^irit  of  Roman  resolution,  ever  highest  in 
disaster  and  danger,  had  neither  bent  nor  despaired  beneath  the 
merciless  blows  which  "  the  dire  African  "  dealt  her  in  rapid  succes- 
sion at  Trebia,  at  Thrasymene,  and  at  Canna3.  Her  i^opulation 
was  thinned  by  repeated  slaughter  in  the  field,  poverty  and  actual 
scarcity  ground  down  the  siirvivors,  through  the  fearful  ravages 
which  Hannibal's  cavalry  spread  through  their  corn-fields,  their 
pasture-lands,  and  their  vine-yards;  many  of  her  allies  went  over 
to  the  invader's  aide;  and  new  clouds  of  foreign  war  threatened  her 
from  Macedonia  and  Gaul.  But  Rome  receded  not.  Rich  and  poor 
among  her  citizens  vied  with  each  other  in  devotion  to  their 
country.  The  wealthy  placed  their  stores,  and  all  placed  their  lives 
at  the  state's  disposal.  Apd  though  Hannibal  could  not  be  driven 
out  of  Italy,  though  every  year  brought  its  suflerings  and  sacri- 
fices, Rome  felt  that  her  constancy  had  not  been  exerted  in  vain. 
If  she  was  weakened  by  the  continual  strife,  so  was  Hannibal  also  ; 
and  it  was  clear  that  the  unaided  resources  of  his  army  were  un- 
equal to  the  task  of  her  destruction.  The  single  deer-hound  could 
not  piill  down  the  quarry  which  he  had  so  furiously  assailed. 
Rome  not  only  stood  fiercely  at  bay,  but  had  pressed  back  and 
gored  her  antagonist,  that  still,  however,  watched  her  in  act  to 
spring.  She  was  weary,  and  bleeding  at  every  pore  ;  and  there 
seemed  to  be  little  hope  of  her  escape,  if  the  other  hound  of  Uamil- 
car's  race  should  come  up  in  time  to  aid  his  brother  in  the  death- 
grapple. 

Hasdrubal  had  commanded  the  Carthaginian  armies  in  Spain 

*  Arnold,  vol.  111.,  p.  61.    The  above  Is  one  of  the  numoroos  bursts  of  elo- 

Suencc  that  adorn  Arnold's  last  volume,  and  cause  sucli  deep  regret  tliat 
aat  volume  aliould  liave  been  the  last,  and  Its  great  and  good  author  have 
been  cut  off  with  his  work  thus  Incomplete. 


88  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

for  somo  timo  ■with  varying  bnt  ger.orally  unfavorable  fortune. 
He  had  not  the  full  authority  over  the  Punic  forces  in  that  coun- 
try which  his  brother  and  his  father  had  previously  exercised. 
The  faction  at  Carthago,  which  was  at  feud  with  his  family,  suc- 
ceeded in  fettering  and  interfering  with  his  power,  and  other 
generals  were  from  time  to  time  sent  into  Spain,  whose  errors  and 
misconduct  caused  the  reverses  that  Hasdriibal  met  with.  This 
is  expressly  attested  by  the  Greek  historian  Polbius,  who  was  the 
intimate  friend  of  the  younger  Afrieanus,  and  drew  his  informa- 
tion respecting  the  second  Punic  war  from  the  best  possible 
authorities.  Li-vy  gives  a  long  narrative  of  campaigns  between  the 
Eoman  commanders  in  Spain  and  Hasdrubal,  which  is  so  palpably 
deformed  by  fictions  and  exaggerations  as  to  be  hardly  deserving 
of  attention.* 

It  is  clear  that,  in  the  year  208  b.  c,  at  least,  Hasdrubal  out- 
maneuvered  Publius  Scipio,  who  held  the  command  of  the  Roman 
forces  in  Sijain,  and  whose  object  was  to  prevent  him  from  passin^f 
the  Pyrenees  and  marching  upon  Italy.  Scipio  expected  that  Has^ 
driibal  would  attempt  the  nearest  route  along  the  coast  of  tho 
Mediterranean,  and  he  therefore  carefully  fortified  and  guarded 
the  passes  of  the  eastern  Pyrenees.  But  Hasdrubal  passed  these 
niountains  near  their  western  extremity;  and  then,  with  a  con- 
siderable force  of  Spanish  infantry,  with  a  small  number  of  African 
troojis,  with  some  elephants  and  much  treasure,  he  marched,  not 
directly  toward  the  coast  of  the  Mediterranean,  but  in  a  northeastern 
line  toward  the  center  of  Gaul.  He  halted  for  the  winter  in 
the  territoi-y  of  the  Arverni,  the  modern  Auvergne,  and  conciliated 
or  purchased  tho  good  will  of  the  Gauls  in  that  region  so  far  that 
he  not  only  found  friendly  winter  quarters  among  them,  but  great 
numbers  of  them  enlisted  under  hiru;  and  on  the  approach  of 
spring,  marched  with  him  to  invade  Italy. 

By  thus  entering  Gaul  at  the  southwest,  and  avoiding  its  south- 
ern maritime  districts,  Hasdrubal  kept  the  Komans  in  complete 
ignorance  of  his  precise  operations  and  movements  in  that  coun- 
try; all  that  they  knew  was  that  Hasdrubal  had  baflied  Scipio'a 
attempts  to  detain  him  in  Spain;  that  he  had  crossed  the  Pyrenees 
with  soldiers,  elephants,  and  money,  and  that  he  was  raising  fresh 
forces  among  the  Gauls.  The  spring  was  sure  to  bring  him  into 
Italy,  and  then  would  come  the  real  tempest  of  the  war,  when  from 
the  north  and  from  the  south  the  two  Carthaginian  armies,  each 
under  a  son  of  the  Thunderbolt,!  'were  to  gather  together  around 
the  seven  hills  of  Eome. 

In  this  emergency  the  Eomans  looked  among  themselves  earn- 


*  See  the  excellent  criticisms  of  Sir  Walter  Eelel^li  on  tills,  in  liis  "  Historv 
of  tlie  World.''  book  v.,  cliap.  lU.,  sec.  il. 

t  Hamllcar  was  surnameU  Barca,  wlilcli  means  the  Thunderbolt.  Sultan 
Bajaaet  had  the  similar  surname  of  Yllderlm. 


BATTLE  OF  THE  METAURUS.  89 

estly  and  anxiously  for  leaders  fit  to  meet  the  perils  of  the  coming 
campaign. 

The  senate  recommended  the  people  to  elect,  as  one  of  their 
consuls,  Caius  Claudius  Nero,  a  patrician  of  one  of  the  families  of 
the  great  Claudian  house.  Xero  had  served  during  the  i)receding 
years  of  the  war  both  against  Hannibal  in  Italy  and  against  Has- 
drubal  in  Spain;  but  it  is  remarkable  that  the  histories  which  we 
possess  record  no  successes  as  having  been  achieved  by  him  either 
before  or  after  his  great  campaign  of  the  Metaurus.  It  proves 
much  for  the  sagacity  of  the  leading  men  of  the  senate  that  they 
recognized  in  Mero  the  energy  and  si)irit  which  were  required  at 
this  crisis,  and  it  is  equally  creditable  to  the  patriotism  of  the  peo- 
ple that  they  followed  the  advice  of  the  senate  by  electing  a  general 
who  had  no  showy  exploits  to  recommend  him  to  their  choice. 

It  was  a  matter  of  greater  difficulty  to  find  a  second  consul;  tho 
laws  required  that  one  consul  should  be  a  plebeian;  and  tho  ple- 
beian nobihty  had  been  fearfully  thinned  by  the  events  of  the  war. 
While  the  senators  anxiously  deliberated  among  themselves  what 
fit  colleague  for  Nero  could  be  nominated  at  the  coming  comitia, 
and  sorrowfully  recalled  the  names  of  Marcellus,  Gracchus,  and 
other  plebeian  generals  who  were  no  more,  one  taciturn  and  moody 
old  man  sat  in  sullen  apathy  among  the  conscript  fathers.     This 
was  Marcus  Livius,  who  had  been  consul  in  the  year  before  the 
beginning  of  this  war,  and  had   then   gained   a  victory  over  the 
Illyrians.     After  his  consulship  he  had  been  impeached  before  the 
people  on  a  charge  of  peculation  and  iinfair  division  of  the  sj^oiis 
among  his  soldiers;  the  verdict  was  unjustly  given  against  him, 
and  the  sense  of  this  wrong,  and  of  the  indignity   thus  jout  upon 
him,  had  rankled  unceasingly  in  the  bosom  of  Livius,  so  that  for 
eight  years  after  his  trial  he  had  lived  in  seclusion  in  his  country  ~ 
seat,  taking  no  part  in  any  affairs  of  state.     Latterly  the  census  had 
compelled  him  to  come  to  Romeand  resume  his  i:)lace  in  the  senate, 
where  ho  used  to  sit  gloomily  apart,  giving  only  a  silent  vute. 
At  last  an  unjust  accusation  against  one  of  his  near  kinsmen  made 
him  break  silence,  and  he  harangued  the  house  in  words  of  weight 
fend  sense,  which  drew  attention  to  him,  and  taught  the  senators 
that  a  strong  spirit  dwelt  beneath  that  unimposing  exterior.    Now, 
while  they  were  debating  on  what  noble  of  a  plebeian  house  was- 
fit  to  assume  the  perilous  honors  of  the   consulate,    some  of  tho 
elder  of  them  looked  on  Marcus  Livius,  and  remembered  that  in 
the  very  last  triumph  which  had  been  celebrated  in  the  streets  of 
Eome,  this  grim  old  man  had  sat  in  the  car  of  victoiy,  and  that  ho, 
had  offered  the  last  thanksgiving  sacrifice  for  the   success  of  the; 
Eoman  arms  which  had  bled  before  Capitoline  Jove.     There  had' 
been  no  triumphs  since  Hannibal  came  into  Italy.     The  lUyrian 
campaign  of  Livius  was  the  last  that  Lad  been  so  honored;  perhaps 
it  might  bo  destined  for  him  now  to  renew  tho  long-interrupted 
series.     The  senators  resolved  that  Livius  should  bcfjjut  in  nomi- 


90  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

nation  as  consul  with  Nero;  the  people  were  willing  to  elect  him  ■ 
the  only  oi^position  came  from  himself.  He  taunted  them  with 
their  inconsistency  in  honoring  the  man  whom  they  had  convicteol 
of  a  base  crime.  "  If  I  am  innocent,"  said  he,  "  why  did  you  place 
such  a  stain  on  me  ?  If  I  am  guilty,  why  am  I  more  fit  for  a  second 
consulship  than  I  was  for  my  first  one  V  *'  The  other  senators  re- 
monstrated with  him,  urging  the  examj^le  of  the  great  Camillus, 
who,  after  an  unjust  condemnation  on  a  similar  charge,  both 
served  and  saved  his  country.  At  last  Livius  ceased  to  object;  and 
Caius  Claudius  Nero  and  Marcus  Livius  were  chosen  consuls  of 
Kome. 

A  quarrel  had  long  existed  between  the  two  constils,  and  the 
senators  strove  to  effect  a  reconciliation  between  them  before  the 
campaign.  Here  again  Livius  for  a  long  time  obstinately  resisted 
the  wish  of  his  fellow-senators.  He  said  it  was  best  for  the  state 
that  he  and  Nero  should  continue  to  hate  one  another.  Each 
would  do  his  duty  better  when  he  knew  that  he  was  watched  by  an 
enemy  in  the  person  of  his  own  colleague.  At  last  the  entreaties 
of  the  senate  prevailed,  and  Livius  consented  to  forego  the 
feud,  and  to  co-operate  with  Nero  in  preparing  for  the  coming 
struggle. 

As  soon  as  the  winter  snows  were  thawed, Hasdrubal  commenced 
his  march  from  Auvergne  to  the  Alps.  He  experienced  none  of 
the  diificulties  which  his  brother  had  met  with  from  the  mountain 
tribes.  Hannibal's  army  had  been  the  first  body  of  regular  troops 
that  had  ever  traversed  their  regions;  and,  as  wild  animals  assail 
a  traveler,  the  natives  rose  against  it  instinctively,  in  imagined 
defense  of  their  own  habitations  which  they  supposed  to  be  the 
objects  of  Carthaginian  ambition.  But  the  fame  of  the  war,  with 
which  Italy  had  now  been  convulsed  for  twelve  years,  had  pene- 
trated into  the  Alpine  passes,  and  the  mountaineers  now  under- 
stood that  a  mighty  city  southward  of  the  Alps  was  to  be  attacked 
by  the  troops  whom  they  saw  marching  among  them.  They  now 
not  only  opposed  no  resistance  to  the  passage  of  Hasdrubal,  but 
many  of  them,  out  of  the  love  of  enterjirise  and  plunder,  or  allured 
by  the  high  pay  that  he  offered,  took  service  with  him;  and  thus 
he  advanced  upon  Italy  with  an  army  that  gathered  strength  at 
every  league.  It  is  said,  also,  that  some  of  the  most  important 
engineering  works  which  Hannibal  had  constructed  were  found 
by  Hasdrubal  still  in  existence,  and  materially  favored  the  speed 
of  his  advance.  He  thus  emerged  into  Italy  from  the  Alpine  val- 
leys much  sooner  than  had  been  anticipated.  Many  warriors  of 
the  Ligurian  tribes  joined  him;  and,  crossing  the  Kiver  Po,  he 
marched  down  its  southern  bank  to  the  city  of  Placentia,  which  ha 
wished  to  secure  as  a  base  for  his  future  operations.  Placentia 
resisted  him  as  bravely  as  it  had  resisted  Hrinnibal  twelve  years 
before,  and  for  some  time  Hasdrubal  waa  occupied  with  a  fruitless 
siege  before  its  walls. 


BATTLE  OF  THE  METAUBUS.  91 

Sis  armies  -were  levied  for  the  defense  of  Italy  when  the  long 
dreaded  approach  of  Hasdrubal  was  announced.  Seventy  thousand 
Romans  served  in  the  fifteen  legions,  of  which,  with  an  equal 
number  of  Italian  allies,  those  armies  and  garrisons  were  com- 
posed. Upward  of  thirty  thcixsand  more  Eomans  were  serving  in 
Sicily,  Sardinia,  and  Spain.  The  whole  number  of  Eoman  citizens 
of  an  age  fit  for  military  duty  scarcely  exceeded  a  hundred  and 
thirty  thousand.  The  census  taken  before  the  commencement 
of  the  war  had  shown  a  total  of  tM-o  hundred  and  seventy  thousand, 
which  had  been  diminished  by  more  than  half  during  twelve  years. 
These  numbers  are  fearfully  emphatic  of  the  extremity  to  which 
Eome  was  reduced,  and  of  her  gigantic  efibrts  in  that  great  agony 
of  her  fate.  Not  merely  men,  but  money  and  military  stores,  were 
drained  to  the  utmost ;  and  if  the  armies  of  that  year  should  be 
Bwept  oif  by  a  repetition  of  the  slaughters  of  Thrasymene  and 
Cannao,  all  felt  that  Eome  would  cease  to  exist.  Even  if  the  cam- 
paign were  to  be  marked  by  no  decisive  success  on  either  side, 
her  ruin  seemed  certain.  In  South  Italy,  Hannibal  had  either  de- 
tached Eome's  allies  from  her,  or  had  impoverished  them  by  the 
ravages  of  his  army.  If  Hasdrubal  could  have  done  the  same  in 
Upper  Italy;  if  Etruria,  Umbria,  and  Northern  Latium  had  either 
revolted  or  been  laid  waste,  Eome  must  have  sunk  beneath  sheer 
starvation,  for  the  hostile  or  desolated  territory  would  have  yielded 
no  supplies  of  corn  for  her  population,  and  money  to  purchase  it 
from  abroad  there  was  none.  Instant  victory  was  a  matter  of  life 
or  death.  Three  of  her  six  armies  were  ordered  to  the  north,  but 
the  first  of  these  was  required  to  overawe  the  disaifected  Etruscans. 
The  second  army  of  the  north  was  pushed  forward,  under  Porcius, 
the  proitor,  to  meet  and  keep  in  check  the  advanced  troops  of  Has- 
drubal ;  while  the  third,  the  grand  army  of  the  north,  which  was 
to  be  under  the  immediate  command  of  the  consul  Livius,  who 
had  the  chief  command  in  all  North  Italy,  advanced  more  slowly 
in  its  support.  There  were  similarly  three  armies  in  the  south, 
under  the  orders  of  the  other  consul,  Claudius  Nero. 

The  lot  liad  decided  that  Livius  was  to  be  opposed  to  Hasdru- 
bal, and  that  Nero  should  face  Hannibal.  And  "when  all  was 
ordered  as  themselves  thought  best,  the  two  consuls  went  forth  of 
tho  city,  each  his  several  way.  The  people  of  Eome  were  now 
quite  otherwise  affected  than  they  had  been  when  L.  .aimilius 
Paulus  and  C.  Terrentius  Varro  were  sent  against  Hannibal.  They 
did  no  longer  take  upon  them  to  direct  their  generals,  or  bid  them 
dispatch  and  win  the  victory  betimes,  but  rather  they  stood  in 
fear  lest  all  diligence,  wisdom,  and  valor  should  prove  too  little; 
for  since  few  years  had  jiassed  wherein  some  one  of  their  generals 
had  not  been  slain,  and  since  it  wa.s  manifest  that,  if  either  of 
these  present  consuls  were  defeated,  or  put  to  the  worst,  the  two 
Carthaginians  would  forthwith  join,  and  make  short  work  with 
the  other,  it  seemed  a  greater  happiness  than  could  bo  expected 


92  DECISIVE  BATTLES, 

that  each  of  them  should  return  home  victor,  and  come  off  with 
honor  from  such  mighty  opposition  as  he  was  like  to  find.  With 
(xtreme  difficulty  had  Rome  held  up  her  head  ever  since  the  bat- 
tle of  Cannaj;  though  it  were  so,  that  Hannibal  alone,  "with  little 
hel^j  from  Carthage,  had  continued  the  war  in  Italy.  But  there 
was  now  rrrived  another  son  of  Amilear,  and  one  that,  in  lns]jres- 
ent  exi^cdition,  had  seemed  a  man  of  more  sufficiency  than  Han- 
nibal himself,  for  whereas,  in  that  long  and  dangerous  march 
thorow  barborous  nations,  over  great  rivers,  and  mountains  that 
were  thoiight  impassable,  Hannibal  had  lost  a  great  pait  of  his 
army,  this  Asdrubal,  in  the  same  places,  had  multiplied  his  num- 
bers, and  gathering  the  peojDle  that  hefound  in  the  way,  descended 
from  the  Alps  like  a  rowling  snow-ball,  far  greater  than  he 
came  over  the  Pyrenees  at  his  first  setting  out  of  JSpain.  These 
considerations  and  the  like,  of  which  fear  presented  many  unto 
them,  caused  the  people  of  Rome  to  wait  upon  their  consuls  out 
of  the  town,  like  a  pensive  train  of  mourners,  thinking  irpon  Mar- 
cellus  and  Crispinus,  upon  whom,  in  the  like  sort,  they  had  given 
attendance  the  last  year,  but  saw  neither  of  them  return  alive  from 
a  less  di-ngerous  war.  Particularly  old  Q.  Fabius  gave  his  accus- 
tomed advice  to  M.  Livius,  that  he  should  abstain  from  giving  or 
taking  battle  until  he  well  understood  the  enemies  condition. 
But  the  consul  made  him  a  froward  answer,  and  said  that  he 
would  fight  the  very  first  day,  for  that  he  thought  it  long  till  ho 
should  either  recover  his  honor  by  victory,  or,  by  seeing  the  over- 
throw of  his  own  unjust  citizens,  satisfied  himself  with  tbe  joy  of 
a  great  though  not  an  honest  revenge.  But  his  meaning  was  bet- 
ter than  his  words."* 

Hannibal  at  this  period  occupied  with  his  veteran  but  much 
reduced  forces  the  extreme  south  of  Italy.  It  had  not  been  expected 
either  by  friend  or  foe  that  Hasdrubal  would  effect  his  passage 
of  the  Alx^s  so  early  in  the  year  as  actually  occurred„  And  even 
when  Hannibal  learned  that  his  brother  was  in  Italy,  and  had  ad- 
vanced as  far  as  Placentia,  he  was  obliged  to  pause  for  further  in- 
telligence before  he  himself  commenced  active  operations,  as  he 
could  not  tell  whether  his  brother  might  not  be  invited  into  Etru- 
ria,  to  aid  the  party  there  that  was  disaffected  to  Rome,  or  whether 
he  would  march  down  by  the  Adriatic  Sea.  Hannibal  led  his 
troops  out  of  their  winter  quarters  in  Bruttium  and  marched 
northward  as  far  as  Canusiuni.  Nero  had  his  headquarters  near 
Venusia,  with  an  army  which  he  had  increased  to  forty  thousand  foot 
and  two  thousand  five  hundred  horse,  by  incorporating  under  his 
own  command  some  of  the  legions  which  had  been  intended  to 
act  under  other  generals  in  the  south.  There  was  another  Roman 
army,  twenty  thousand  strong,  south  of  Hannibal,  at  Tarentum. 
The  strength  of  that  city  secured  this  Roman  force  from  any  at- 

*  £ir  Walter  Ealeigh. 


£A  TTLE  OF  THE  META  UE  US.  93 

tack  by  Hannibal,  and  it  was  a  serious  matter  to  tnarcb  northward 
and  leave  it  in  bis  rear,  free  to  act  against  all  bis  depots  and  allies 
in  the  friendly  part  of  Italy,  which  ibr  the  two  or  three  last  cam- 
paigns bad  served  him  for  a  base  of  bis  operations.  Moreover, 
Nero's  arm}'  was  so  strong  that  Hannibal  could  not  concentrate 
trcops  enough  to  assume  the  oftensive  against  it  without  weaken- 
ing bis  garrisons,  and  relinquishing,  at  least  for  a  time,  bis  grasp 
ujDon  the  southern  provinces.  To  do  this  before  he  was  certainly 
informed  of  his  brother's  oijerations  would  have  been  a  useless 
sacrifice,  as  Kero  could  retreat  before  him  upon  the  other  Eoman 
armies  near  the  capital,  and  Hannibal  knew  by  experience  that  a 
mere  advance  of  his  army  upon  the  walls  of  Rome  would  have  no 
eflect  on  the  fortunes  of  the  war.  In  the  hope,  probably,  of  in- 
ducing Nero  to  follow  him,  and  of  gaining  an  opportunity  of  out- 
maneuvering  the  Eoman  consul  and  attacking  hmi  on  bis  march, 
Hannibal  moved  into  Lueania,  and  then  back  into  Apulia  ;  be 
again  marched  down  into  Bruttium,  and  strengthened  his  ,army 
by  a  levy  of  recruits  in  that  district.  Nero  followed  biin,  but  gave 
him  no  chance  of  assailing  him  at  a  disadvantage.  Some  partial 
encounters  seem  to  have  taken  place;  but  the  consul  could  not 
prevent  Hannibal's  junction  with  his  Bruttian  levies,  nor  could 
Hannibal  gain  an  opportunity  of  surprising  and  crushing  the  con- 
cub*  Hannibal  returned  to  his  former  head-quarters  at  Canusium, 
and  halted  there  in  expectation  of  further  tidings  of  his  brother's 
movements.  Nero  also  resumed  his  former  position  in  observa- 
tion of  the  Carthaginian  army. 

Meanwhile,  Hasdrubal  bad  raised  the  siege  of  Placentia,  and 
was  advancing  toward  Ariminum  on  the  Adriatic,  and  driving 
before  him  the  Eoman  army  under  Porcius.  Nor  when  the  con- 
sul Livius  had  come  up,  and  united  the  f  econd  and  third  armies 
of  the  north,  could  be  make  head  agaiust  the  invaders.  The 
Romans  still  fell  back  before  Hasdrubal,  beyond  Ariminum,  beyond 

*  The  annalists  whom  Llvy  copied  spoke  of  Kero-s  gaining  repeated 
victories  over  Ilannlhal,  and  Killing  and  taking  lils  men  by  tens  ot  thou- 
sands. The  falsehood  of  all  this  Is  seU-evldent.  If  ISero  could  thus 
always  beat  Hannibal,  the  Romans  would  not  have  been  in  such  an  agony 
of  dread  about  Hasdrubal  as  all  writers  describe.  Indeed,  we  have  the 
express  testimony  of  Polyblus  that  the  statements  which  we  read  in  Llvy 
of  Marcellus,  Nero  and  others  gaining  victories  over  Hannibal  In  Italy, 
must  be  all  fabrications  of  lionian  vanity.  I'olybius  states,  lib.  xv.,  sec. 
IG.  that  Hannibal  was  never  defeated  before  the  battle  of  Zama;  and  in 
another  passage,  book  Ix.,  chap.  3,  he  mentions  that  after  the  defeats  which 
Harmlbal  inflicted  on  tlie  Konians  In  tlie  early  years  of  the  war.  tliey  no 
longer  dared  face  his  army  in  a  pitched  battle  on  a  fiilr  field,  and  yet  tliey 
rcsdlutely  maintained  the  war  He  rightly  explains  this  by  referring  to 
till'  superiority  of  Hannibal's  cavaliw,  Die  arm  wliicii  gained  him  all  ills 
victories.  IJy  keeping  wltliin  foi-tiiied  lines,  or  close  to  Hie  sides  of  the 
mountains  when  Hannibal  apjiroaclied  ilicm,  ti>e  K'lninns  rciidcred  lilscav- 
alry  ineffective ;  and  a  glance  at  Hie  geograiiliy  or  Italy  will  show  how  an 
army  can  traverse  the  greater  part  of  Uiat  country  without  venturing  lar 
Irom  Uic  high  grounds. 


y4  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

tlie  Metanrns,  and  as  far  as  the  little  town  of  Sena,  to  the  soutli- 
east  of  that  river.  Hasdrubal  was  not  nnmindlul  of  the  necessity 
of  acting  in  concert  with  his  brother.  He  sent  messengers  to 
Hannibal  to  announce  his  own  line  of  march,  and  to  propose  that 
they  should  unite  their  armies  in  South  Umbria,  and  then  wheel 
I'ound  against  Borne.  Those  messengers  traversed  the  greater  part 
of  Italy  in  safetj',  but,  when  close  to  the  object  of  their  mission, 
were  captured  by  a  Koman  detachment,  and  Hasdrubal's  letter, 
detailing  his  whole  plan  of  the  camiiaign,  was  laid,  not  in  his 
brother's  hands,  but  in  those  of  the  commander  of  the  Itoman 
armies  of  the  south.  Nero  saw  at  once  the  full  importance  of  the 
crisis.  The  two  sons  of  Hamilcar  were  now  within  two  hundred 
miles  of  each  other,  and  if  Home  were  to  be  saved,  the  brothers 
must  never  meet  alive.  Nero  instantly  ordered  seven  thousand 
picked  men,  a  thousand  being  cavalry,  to  hold  themselves  in  readi- 
ness for  a  secret  ex^Dedition  against  one  of  Hannibal's  garrisons, 
and  as  soon  as  night  had  set  in,  he  hurried  forward  on  his  bold 
enterprise  ;  but  he  quickly  left  the  southern  road  toward  Lucania, 
and,  wheeling  round,  pressing  northward  with  the  utmost  rapidity 
toward  Picenum.  He  had,  during  the  preceding  afternoon,  sent 
messengers  to  Rome,  who  were  to  lay  Hasdrubal's  letters  before 
the  senate.  There  was  a  law,  forbidding  a  consul  to  make  war  or 
march  his  army  beyond  the  limits  of  the  province  assigned  to  him; 
but  in  such  an  emergency,  Nero  did  not  wait  for  the  permission  of 
the  senate  to  execute  his  jDroject,  but  informed  them  that  he  waa 
already  on  his  march  to  join  Livius  against  Hasdrubal.  He  ad- 
vised them  to  send  the  two  legions  which  formed  the  home  garri- 
son on  to  Narnia,  so  as  to  defend  that  pass  of  the  Flaminian  road 
against  Hasdrubal,  in  case  he  should  march  upon  Home  before 
the  consular  armies  could  attack  him.  They  were  to  supply  the 
place  of  these  two  legions  at  Rome  by  a  levy  en  masse  in  the  city 
and  by  ordering  up  the  reserve  legion  from  Capua.  These  were  nis 
communications  to  the  senate.  He  also  sent  horsemen  forward 
along  his  line  of  march,  with  orders  to  the  local  authorities  to  bring 
stores  of  provisions  and  refreshments  of  every  kind  to  the  road- 
side, and  to  have  relays  of  carriages  ready  for  the  conveyance  of  the 
wearied  soldiers.  Such  were  the  precautions  which  he  took  for 
accelerating  his  march  ;  and  when  he  had  advanced  some  little 
distance  from  his  camp,  he  briefly  informed  his  soldiers  of  the  real 
object  of  their  expedition.  He  told  them  that  never  was  there  a 
design  more  seemingly  audacious  and  more  really  safe.  He  said 
he  was  leading  them  to  a  certain  victory,  for  his  colleague  had  an 
army  large  enough  to  balance  the  enemy  already,  so  that  their 
swords  would  decisively  turn  the  scale.  The  very  rumor  that  a 
fresh  consul  and  a  fresh  army  had  come  up,  when  heard  on  the 
battle-field  (and  he  would  take  care  that  they  should  not  be  heard 
of  before  they  were  seen  and  felt),  woukl  settle  the  biisiness. 
They  would  have  all  the  credit  of  the  victory,  and  of  having  dealt 


BATTLE  OF  THE  METAUBUS.  95 

the  final  decisive  blow.  He  appealed  to  the  enthusiastic  reception 
which  they  already  met  with  on.  their  line  of  march  as  a  proof  and 
an  omen  of  their  good  fortune.*  And,  indeed,  their  whole  jjath 
was  amid  the  vows,  and  jirayers,  and  praises  of  their  countrymen. 
The  entire  population  of  the  districts  through  which  they  passed 
flocked  to  the  roadside  to  see  and  bless  the  deliverers  of  their 
country.  Food,  drink,  and  refreshments  of  every  kind  were 
eagerly  pressed  on  their  accei^tance.  Each  i^easant  thought  a 
favor  was  conferred  on  him  if  one  of  Nero's  chosen  band  would 
accept  aught  at  his  hands.  The  soldiers  caught  the  fiill  spirit  of 
their  leader.  Night  and  day  they  marched  forward,  taking  their 
hurried  meals  in  the  ranks,  and  resting  by  relays  in  the  wagons 
which  the  zeal  of  the  coi;ntry  people  provieled,  and  which  followed 
in  the  rear  of  the  column. 

Meanwhile,  at  Rome,  the  news  of  Nero's  expedition  had  caused 
the  greatest  excitement  and  alarm.  -All  men  felt  the  full  audacity 
of  the  enterprise,  but  hesitated  what  epithet  to  apply  to  it.  It 
was  evident  that  Nero's  conduct  would  be  judged  of  by  the  event, 
that  most  unfair  criterion,  as  the  Koman  historian  truly  terms  itf 
People  reasoned  on  the  perilous  state  in  which  Nero  had  left  the 
rest  of  his  army,  without  a  general,  and  deprived  of  the  core  of  its 
strength,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  terrible  Hannibal.  They  specu- 
lated on  how  long  it  woiild  take  Hannibal  to  pursue  and  overtake 
Nero  himself,  and  his  expeditionary  force.  They  talked  over  the 
former  disasters  of  the  war,  and  the  fall  of  both  the  consuls  of  the 
last  year.  All  the  calamities  had  come  on  them  while  they  had 
only  one  Carthaginian  general  and  army  to  deal  with  in  Italy. 
Now  they  had  two  Punic  wars  at  a  time.  They  had  two  Carthagi- 
nian armies,  they  had  almost  two  Hannibals  in  Italy.  Hasdriibal 
•was  sprung  from  the  same  father;  trained  up  in  the  same  hostility 
to  Eome;  equally  practiced  in  battle  against  their  legions;  and,  if 
the  comparative  speed  and  success  with  which  he  had  crossed  the 
Alps  was  a  fair  test,  he  was  even  a  better  general  than  his  brother. 
With  fear  for  their  interpreter  of  every  rumor,  they  exaggerated 
the  strength  of  their  enemy's  forces  in  every  quarter,  and  criticised 
and  distrusted  their  own. 

Fortunately  for  Eome,  while  she  was  thus  a  prey  to  terror  and 
anxiety,  her  consul's  nerves  were  stout  and  strong,  and  he  resolute- 
ly urged  on  his  march  toward  Sena,  where  his  colleague  Livius 
and  the  prajtor  Porcius  were  encamped,  Ilasdrubal's  army  being 
in  position  about  half  a  mile  to  their  north.  Nero  had  sent  couriers 
forward  to  apprise  his  colleague  of  his  project  and  of  his  ap- 
proach; and  by  the  advice  of  Livius,  Nero  so  timed  his  final  march 
as  to  reach  the  camp  at  Sena  by  night.     According  to  a  previous 

•  Llvy,  lib.  xxvll..  c.  45. 

t  "  Adparobat  (quo  nihil  Inlqulus  est)  ex  eventu  lamam  lial)lturum»"-v 
Lrrr,  IID.  xxvll.,  c.  44, 


96  DECISIVis  BATTLES. 

arrnngoment,  Nero's  men  -were  received  silently  into  the  tents  of 
their  comrades,  each  according  to  bis  rank.  By  these  means  there 
was  no  enlargement  of  the  camp  that  could  betray  to  Hasdrubal  the 
accession  of  force  which  the  Romans  had  received.  This  was  con- 
siderable, as  Kero's  numbers  had  been  increased  on  the  march  by 
the  volunteers,  who  offered  themselves  in  crowds,  and  from  whom 
he  selected  the  most  promising  men,  and  esijecially  the  veterans 
of  former  campaigns.  A  council  of  war  was  held  on  the  morning 
after  his  arrival,  in  which  some  advised  that  time  shoiild  be  given 
for  Nero's  men  to  refresh  themselves  after  the  fatigue  of  such  a 
march.  But  Nero  vehemently  opposed  all  delay.  "  The  officer," 
said  he,  "who  is  for  giving  time  to  my  men  here  to  rest  themselves, 
is  for  giving  time  to  Hannibal  to  attack  my  men,  whom  I  have  left 
in  the  camp  in  Apulia.  He  is  for  giving  tmie  to  Hannibal  and 
Hasdrubal  to  discover  my  march,  and  to  maneuver  for  a  junction 
with  each  other  in  Cisalpine  Gaul  at  their  leisure.  We  must  fight 
instantly,  while  both  the  foe  here  and  the  foe  in  the  south  are  ignor- 
ant of  our  movements.  We  must  destroy  this  Hasdrubal,  and  I 
must  be  back  in  Apulia  before  Hannibal  awakes  from  his  torpor."* 
Nero's  advice  prevailed.  It  was  resolved  to  fight  directly,  and  be- 
fore the  consul  and  praetor  left  the  tent  of  Livius,  the  red  ensign, 
which  was  the  signal  to  prepare  for  immediate  action,  was  hoisted, 
and  the  Ptomans forthwith  drew  up  in  battle  array  outside  the  camp. 
Hasdrubal  had  been  anxious  to  bring  Livius  and  Porcius  to  bat- 
tle, though  he  had  not  judged  it  expedient  to  attack  them  in  their 
lines.  And  now,  on  hearing  that  the  Romans  offered  battle,  \\f) 
also  drew  up  his  men  and  advanced  toward  them.  No  spy  or  de- 
eerter  had  informed  him  of  Nero's  arrival,  nor  had  he  receiyed  any 
direct  information  that  he  had  more  than  his  old  enemies  to  deal 
with.  But  as  he  rode  forward  to  reconnoiter  the  Roman  line,  he 
thought  that  their  numbers  seemed  to  have  increased,  and  that 
the  armor  of  some  of  them  was  unusually  dull  and  stained.  He 
noticed,  also,  that  the  horses  of  some  of  the  cavalry  appeared  to  be 
rough  and  out  of  condition,  as  if  they  had  just  come  from  a  suc- 
cession of  forced  marches.  So  also,  though,  owing  to  the  precau- 
tion of  Livius,  the  Roman  camp  showed  no  change  of  size,  it  had 
not  escaped  the  quick  ear  of  the  Carthaginian  general  that  the 
trumpet  which  gave  the  signal  to  the  Roman  legions  sounded  that 
morning  once  oftener  than  usual,  as  if  directing  the  troops  of 
Bomo  additional  superior  officer.  Hasdrubal,  from  his  Spanish 
campaigns,  was  well  acquainted  with  all  the  sounds  and  signals  of 
Roman  war,  and  from  all  that  he  heard  and  saw,  he  felt  convinced 
that  both  the  Roman  consuls  were  before  him.  In  doubt  and  dif- 
ficulty as  to  what  might  have  taken  place  between  the  armies  of 
the  south,  and  probably  hoping  that  Hannibal  also  was  approach- 
ing, Hasdrubal  determined  to  avoid  an  encounter  with  the  com- 

*  Llv7,  lib.  xsvll.,  c.  46. 


BATTLE  OF  THE  METAURUS.  97 

bincd  Boman  forces,  and  to  endeavor  to  retreat  upon  Insubrian 
Ganl,  where  he  woul  J  be  in  a  friendly  country,  and  could  endeavor 
to  re-open  his  communication  with  his  brother.  He  therefore  led 
his  troops  back  into  their  camp  ;  and  as  the  liomans  did  not  ven- 
ture on  an  assault  upon  his  entrenchments,  and  Hasdrubal  did  nofe 
choose  to  commence  hisoretreat  in  their  sight,  the  day  passed  away 
in  inaction.  At  the  first  watch  of  the  night,  Hasdrubal  led  his  men 
silently  out  of  their  camp,  and  moved  northward  toward  the  Jletau- 
rus,  in  the  hope  of  placing  tliat  river  between  himself  and  the  iXo- 
mans  before  his  retreat  was  discovered.  His  guides  betrayed  him : 
and  having  purposely  led  him  away  from  the  jiart  of  the  river  that 
was  fordable,  they  made  their  escape  in  the  dark,  and  left  Hasdru- 
bal and  his  army  wandering  in  confusion  along  the  steep  bank, 
and  seeking  in  vain  for  a  spot  where  the  stream  could  be  safely 
crossed.  At  last  they  halted  ;  and  when  day  dawned  iipon  them, 
Hasdrubal  found  that  great  numbers  of  his  men,  in  their  fatigue- 
and  impatience,  had  lost  all  discipline  and  subordination,  and  that 
many  of  his  Gallic  auxiliaries  had  got  drunk,  and  were  lying 
helpless  in  their  quarters.  The  lloman  cavalry  were  soon  seen 
coming  iip  in  pursuit,  followed  at  nogr^-at  distance  by  the  legions, 
which  marched  in  readiness  for  an  inst;int  engagement.  It  was 
hojieless  for  Hasdrubal  to  think  of  continiiing  his  retreat  before 
them.  The  prospect  of  immediate  battle  might  recall  the  disor- 
dered part  of  his  troops  to  a  sense  of  duty,  and  revive  the  instinct 
of  discipline.  He  therefore  ordered  his  men  to  prepare  for  action 
instantly,  and  made  the  best  arrangement  of  them  that  the  nature 
of  the  ground  would  permit. 

Heeren  has  well  described  the  general  appoai'ance  of  a  Carthagi- 
nian army.  Ha  says,  "It  was  an  assemblage  of  the  most  opposite 
races  of  the  human  species  from  the  farthest  parts  of  the  globe. 
Hordes  of  half-naked  Gauls  were  ranged  next  to  companies  of 
white-clothed  Iberians,  and  savage  Ligurians  nr-xt  to  the  far-trav- 
eled Nasamoni'.  s  and  Lotophagi.  Carthaginians  and  Phenici- 
Africans  formed  the  center,  while  innumerable  troops  ofNumidian 
horsemen,  taken  from  all  the  tribes  of  the  desert,  swarmed  about 
on  unsaddled  horses  and  formed  the  wings  ;  the  van  was  com- 
posed of  Balearic  slingers  ;  and  a  line  of  colossal  elephants,  with 
their  Ethiopian  guides,  formed,  as  it  were,  a  chain  of  moving  for- 
tresses before  the  whole  army."  Such  were  the  usual  m;iterial3 
and  arrangements  of  the  hosts  that  fought  for  Carthage;  but  the 
troojis  under  Hasdrubal  were  not  in  all  respects  thus  constituted 
or  thus  stationed.  He  seems  to  have  been  esi)ecially  deficient  in 
cavalry,  and  ho  had  few  African  troops,  though  some  Carthaginians 
of  high  rank  were  with  him.  His  veteran  Spanish  infantry,  armed 
with  helmets  and  shields,  and  short  cut-and-thrust  swords,  were 
the  best  part  of  his  army.  These,  and  his  few  Africans,  he  drew 
up  on  his  right  wing,  under  his  own  personal  command.  In  the 
center  he  placed  his  Ligurian  infantrv,  and  ou  the  left  wing  he 
D.B.-  4 


98  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

placed  or  retained  the  Gauls,  who  \7ere  armed  with  long  javelins 
and  with  huge  broad  swords  and  targets.  The  rugged  nature  of 
the  ground  in  front  and  on  the  tiank  of  this  part  of  his  line  made 
him  hope  that  the  llonian  right  wing  would  bo  unable  to  come  to 
close  quarters  with  these  unserviceable  barbarians  before  he  could 
make  some  imitression  with  his  Spanish  veterans  on  the  Eoman 
left.  This  was  the  only  chance  that  he  had  of  victory  or  safety, 
and  he  seems  to  have  done  every  thing  that  good  generalship  could 
do  to  secure  it.  He  placed  his  elephants  in  advance  of  his  center 
and  right  wing.  He  had  caused  the  driver  of  each  of  them  to  be 
provided  with  a  sharp  iron  spike  and  a  mallet,  and  had  given 
orders  that  every  beast  that  became  unmanageable,  and  ran  back 
upon  his  own  ranks,  should  be  instantly  killed,  by  driving  the 
spike  into  the  vertebra  at  the  junction  of  the  head  and  the  sjune. 
Hasdrubal's  elephants  were  ten  in  number.  We  have  no  trust- 
worthy information  as  to  the  amount  of  his  infantry,  but  it  is  quite 
clear  that  he  was  greatly  outnumbered  by  the  combined  Eoman 
forces. 

The  tactic  of  the  Roman  legions  had  not  yet  acquired  that 
perfection  which  it  received  irom  the  military  genius  of  Marius, 
and  which  we  read  of  in  the  tirst  chapter  of  Gibbon.  We  pos- 
sess in  that  great  work,  an  account  of  the  lloman  legions  at  the 
end  of  the  commonwealth,  and  during  the  early  ages  of  the  em- 
pire, which  those  alone  can  adequately  admire  who  have  attempted 
a  similar  description.  We  have  also,  in  the  sixth  and  seven- 
teenth books  of  Polybius,  an  elaborate  discussion  on  the  military 
system  of  the  Eonians  in  his  time,  which  was  not  far  distant 
from  the  time  of  the  battle  of  the  Metaurus.  But  the  subject  is 
beset  with  difficulties  ;  and  instead  of  entering  into  minute  but 
inconclusive  details,  I  would  refer  to  Gibbon's  first  chapter  as 
serving  for  a  general  description  of  the  Roman  army  in  its  period 
of  perfection,  and  remark,  that  the  training  and  armor  which  the 
whole  legion  received  in  the  time  of  Augustus  was,  two  centuries 
earlier,  only  partially  introduced.  Two  divisions  of  troops,  called 
Hastati  and  Principes,  formed  the  bulk  of  each  Roman  legion  in 
the  second  Pur.ic  war.  Each  of  these  divisions  was  twelve  hun- 
dred strong.  The  Hastatus  and  the  Princeps  legionary  bore  a 
breast-plate  or  coat  of  mail,  brazen  greaves,  and  a  brazen  helmet, 
with  a  lofty  upright  crest  of  scarlet  or  black  feathers.  He  haii 
a  large  oblong  shield  ;  and,  as  weapons  of  otlense,  two  javelins, 
one  of  which  was  light  and  slender,  biit  the  other  was  a  strong 
and  massive  w'eapon,  with  a  shaft  about  four  feet  long,  and  an 
iron  head  of  equal  length.  The  sword  was  carried  on  the  right 
thigh,  and  was   a   short  cut-and-thrust  weapon,  like  that  which 

*  Most  probably  during  the  period  of  his  prolor.ged  consulship,  fi-om  b.  c. 
164  to  B.C.  lui,  wliile  lie  was  training  lils  army  agamst  the  Cimbri  and  tha 
Teutons. 


BATTLE  OF  THE  JilETAUBUS.  99 

vras  used  by  the  Spaniards.  Thus  armed,  the  Hastati  formed 
the  front  division  of  the  k-gion,  and  the  Principes  the  second. 
Each  division  was  drawn  up  aliout  ten  deep,  a  space  of  three  feet 
being  allowed  between  the  fiks  as  well  as  the  ranks,  so  as  to 
give  each  legionary  anii:)le  room  for  the  use  of  the  javelins,  and 
of  his  sword  and  shield.  The  men  in  the  second  rank  did  not 
stand  immediately  behind  those  in  the  first  rank,  but  the  files 
were  alternate,  like  the  position  of  the  men  on  a  draught-board. 
This  was  termed  the  quincunx  order.  Niebuhr  considers  that 
this  arrangement  enabled  the  legion  to  keep  up  a  shower  of  jave- 
lins on  the  enemy  for  some  considerable  time.  He  says,  "When 
the  first  line  had  hurled  its  pila,  it  probably  stepped  back  be- 
tween those  who  stood  behind  it,  and  two  steps  forward  restored 
the  front  nearly  to  its  iirst  iiosition  ;  a  movement  which,  on  ac- 
count of  the  arrangement  of  the  c^uincunx,  could  be  executed 
without  losing  a  moment.  Thus  one  line  succeeded  the  other  in 
the  front  till  it  was  time  to  draw  the  swords  ;  nay,  when  it  was 
found  expedient,  the  lines  which  had  already  been  in  the  front 
might  repeat  this  change,  since  the  stores  of  pila  were  surely  not 
confined  to  the  two  which  each  soldier  took  with  him  into  battle. 

"The  same  change  must  have  taken  place  in  fighting  with  the 
sword,  which,  when  the  same  tactic  was  adopted  on  both  sides, 
was  anything  but  a  confused  melee  ;  on  the  contrarj'-,  it  was  a  series 
of  single  combats."  He  adds,  that  a  military  man  of  ex23erience 
had  been  consulted  by  him  on  the  subject,  and  had  given  it  as  his 
opinion  "  that  the  change  of  the  lines  as  described  above  was  by 
no  means  impracticable  ;  but  in  the  absence  of  the  deafening  noise 
of  gunpowder,  it  cannot  have  had  any  difficulty  with  well-trained 
troops." 

The  third  division  of  the  legion  was  six  hundred  strong,  and 
acted  as  a  resene.  It  was  always  composed  of  veteran  soldiers, 
who  were  called  the  Triarii.  Their  arms  were  the  same  as  those 
of  the  Principes  and  Hastati,  except  that  each  Triarian  carried 
a  spear  instead  of  javelins.  The  rest  of  the  legion  consisted  of 
light-armed  troops,  who  acted  as  skirmishers.  The  cavalry  of 
each  legion  was  at  this  period  about  three  hundred  strong.  The 
Italian  allies,  who  were  attached  to  the  legion,  seemed  to  have 
been  fcimilarly  armed  and  equipped,  but  their  numerical  proportion, 
of  cavalry  was  much  larger. 

Such  was  the  nature  of  the  forces  that  advanced  on  the  Roman 
side  to  tl)0  battle  of  the  Metaurus.  Nero  commanded  the  right 
wing,  Livius  the  left,  and  the  praetor  Porcius  had  the  command  of 
the  center.  "Both  Piomans  and  Carthaginians  well  understood 
how  much  depended  upon  the  fortune  of  this  day,  and  how  little 
hope  of  safety  there  was  for  the  vancpiished.  Only  tlie  Homans 
herein  seemed  to  have  had  the  better  in  conceit  and  0]union  that 
they  were  to  fight  with  men  desiroiis  to  have  fled  from  them  ;  and 
according  to  thia  ^jresumptiou  came  Livius  the  consul,  with  » 


100  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

proiid  bravery,  to  give  charge  on  the  Spaniards  and  Africans,  by 
■^•hom  ho  -ffas  so  sharj^ly  entertained  that  the  victory  seemed  very 
doubtful.  The  Africans  and  Spaniards  were  stout  soldiers,  and 
well  acquainted  with  the  manner  of  the  Koman  fight.  The 
Ligurians,  also,  were  a  hardy  nation,  and  not  accustomed  to  give 
gi-ound,  which  they  needed  the  less,  or  were  able  nov/  to  do,  being 
placed  in  the  midst.  Livius,  therefore,  and  Porcius  foiind  great 
opposition ;  and  with  great  slaughter  on  both  sides  prevailed  little 
or  nothing.  Besides  other  difficulties,  they  were  exceedingly 
troubled  by  the  elephants,  that  brake  their  first  ranks,  and  put 
them  in  such  disorder  as  the  Koman  ensigns  were  driven  to  fall 
Lack  ;  all  this  while  Claudius  Nero,  laboring  in  vain  against  a 
steep  hill,  was  unable  to  come  to  blows  with  the  Gauls  that  stood 
opposite  him,  but  out  of  danger.  This  made  Hasdrubal  the  more 
confident,  who,  seeing  his  own  left  wing  safe,  did  the  more  boldly 
and  fiercely  make  impression  on  the  other  side  upon  the  left  wing 
of  tlio  Eomans."* 

But  at  last  Nero,  who  found  that  Hasdrubal  refused  his  left 
wing,  and  who  could  not  overcome  the  difliculties  of  the  ground 
in  the  quarter  assigned  to  him,  decided  the  battle  by  another 
stroke  of  that  military  genius  which  had  inspired  his  march. 
Wheeling  a  brigade  of  his  best  men  round  the  rear  of  the  rest  of 
the  Koman  army,  Nero  fiercely  charged  the  flank  of  the  Spaniards 
and  Africans.  The  charge  was  as  successful  as  it  M'as  sudden. 
Rolled  back  in  disorder  upon  each  other,  and  overwhelmed  by 
numbers,  the  Spaniards  find  Ligurians  died,  fighting  gallantly  to 
the  last.  The  Gauls,  who  had  taken  little  or  no  part  in  the  strife 
of  the  day,  were  then  surrounded,  and  butchered  almost  without 
resistance.  Hasdrubal,  after  having,  by  the  confession  of  his  en- 
emies, done  all  that  a  general  could  do,  when  he  saw  that  the  vic- 
tory was  irreparably  lost,  scorning  to  survive  the  gallant  host 
which  he  had  led,  and  to  gratify,  as  a  captive,  Roman  cruelty  and 
pride,  spurred  his  horse  into  the  midst  of  a  Roman  cohort,  and, 
sword  in  hand,  met  the  death  that  was  worthy  of  the  son  of  Hamil- 
car  and  the  brother  of  Hannibal. 

Success  the  most  complete  had  crowned  Nero's  enterprise.  Re- 
turning as  rapidly  as  he  had  advanced,  he  was  again  facing  the 
inactive  enemies  in  the  south  before  they  e^  en  knew  of  his  march. 
But  he  brought  with  him  a  ghastly  trophy  of  what  he  had  done. 
In  the  true  spirit  of  that  savage  brutality  which  deformed  the 
Roman  national  character,  Nero  ordered  Hasdrubal's  head  to  be 
flung  into  his  brother's  camp.  Ten  years  had  passed  since  Han- 
nibal had  last  gazed  on  those  features.  The  sons  of  Hamilcar  had 
then  planned  their  system  of  warfare  against  Rome,  which  they 
had  so  nearly  brought  to  successful  accomplishment.  Year  after 
year  had  Hannibal  been  struggling  in  Italy,  in  the  hope  of  one 

*  "nistorie  of  the  World,"  by  Sir  Wulter  Baielsli,  p  946. 


SYNOPSIS  OF  EVENTS,  ETC.  101 

day  hailing  the  arrival  of  liim  whom  he  had  left  in  Spain,  and  of 
seeing  his  brother's  eye  flash  with  aflfection  and  pride  at  the  junc- 
tion of  their  irresistible  hosts.  He  now  saw  that  eye  glazed  in 
death,  and  in  the  agony  of  his  heart  the  great  Carthaginian  groaned 
aloud  that  he  recognized  his  country's  destiny. 

Meanwhile,  at  the  tidings  of  the  great  battle,  Eome  at  once  rose 
from  the  thrill  of  anxiety  and  terror  to  the  full  confidence  of 
triumph.  Hannibal  might  retain  his  hold  on  Southern  Italy  for  a 
few  years  longer,  but  the  imperial  city  and  her  allies  were  no  longer 
in  danger  from  his  arms;  and,  after  Hannibal's  downfall,  the 
great  military  republic  of  the  ancient  world  met  in  her  career  of 
conquest  no  other  worthy  competitor.  Bj^ron  h;^.s  termed  Nero  s 
march  "unequalled,"  and,  in  the  magnitude  cf  its  consequences, 
it  is  so.  Viewed  only  as  a  military  exploit,  it  remains  unparalleled 
save  by  Marlborough's  bold  march  from  Flanders  to  the  Danube 
in  the  campaign  of  Blenheim,  and  perhaps  also  by  the  Archduke 
Charles's  lateral  march  in  1796,  by  which  he  overwhelmed  the 
French  under  Jourdain,  and  then,  driving  Moreau  through  the 
Black  Forest  and  across  the  Khine,  for  awhile  freed  Germany  from 
her  invaders. 


Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  the  Metatjeus,  b.  c  . 
207,  AND  Aeminius's  Yictoey  oveb  the  Roman  Legions  undeb 
Vaetus,  A.  d.  9. 

B.  C.  205  to  201.  Scipio  is  made  consul,  and  carries  the  war  into 
Africa.  He  gains  several  victories  there,  and  the  Carthaginians 
recall  Hannibal  from  Italy  to  oppose  him.  Battle  of  Zama  in  201. 
Hannibal  is  defeated,  and  Carthage  sues  for  peace.  End  of  the 
second  Punic  war,  leaving  Eome  confirmed  in  the  dominion  of 
Italy,  Sicily,  Sardinia,  and  Corsica,  and  also  mistress  of  great  part 
of  Spain,  and  virtually  predominant  in  North  Africa. 

200.  Eome  makes  "war  upon  Philip,  king  of  Macedonia.  She 
pretends  to  take  the  Greek  cities  of  the  Achaean  league  and  the 
.Sltolians  under  her  protection  as  allies.  Philip  is  defeated  by  the 
proconsul  Flamininus  at  Cynoscephalre,  198,  and  begs  for  peace. 
The  Macedonian  influence  is  now  completely  destroyed  in  Greece, 
and  theKoman  established  in  its  stead,  though  Eome  pretends  to 
acknowledge  the  independence  of  the  Greek  cities. 

194.  Eome  makes  war  upon  Antiochus,  king  of  Syria.  He  is 
completely  defeated  at  the  battle  of  Magnesia,  192,  and  is  glad  to 
ac/cept  peace  on  conditions  which  leave  him  dependent  upon 
Eome. 

200-190.  "Thus,  within  the  short  space  of  ten  years,  was  laid 
the  foundation  of  the  Eoman  authority  in  the  East,  and  the  gen- 
eral state  of  affairs  entirely  changed.     K  Eome  was  not  yet  tho 


102  DECISIVE  BATTIES. 

ruler,  she  was  at  least  the  arbitress  of  the  world  from  the  Atlantic 
to  the  Euphrates.  The  power  of  the  three  principal  states  was  so 
completely  humbled,  that  they  durst  not,  without  the  permission 
of  Home,  begin  any  new  war  ;  the  fourth,  Egypt,  had  already,  in 
the  year  201,  placed  herself  under  the  guardianship  of  Rome  ;  and 
the  lesser  powers  followed  of  themselves,  esteeming  it  an  honor  to 
be  called  the  allies  of  Borne.  With  this  name  the  nations  were  lulled 
into  security,  and  broiight  under  the  Roman  yoke  ;  the  new 
political  system  of  Rome  was  founded  and  strengthened,  jiartly 
by  exciting  and  supporting  the  weaker  states  against  the  stronger, 
however  unjust  the  cause  of  the  former  might  be;  and  partly  by 
factions  which  she  found  means  to  raise  in  every  state,  even  the 
smallest." — (  heeren.) 

172.  War  renewed  between  Macedon  and  Rome.  Decisive  de- 
feat of  Perses,  the  Macedonian  king,  by  Paulus  .Slmilius  at  Pydna 
1G8.     Destruction  of  the  Macedonian  monarchy. 

150.  Rome  oppresses  the  Carthaginians  till  they  are  driven  to 
take  up  arms,  and  the  third  Punic  war  begins.  Carthage  is  taken 
and  destroyed  by  Scijiio  .Slmilianus,  14G,  and  the  Carthaginian 
territory  is  made  a  Roman  province. 

146.  In  the  same  year  in  which  Carthage  falls,  Corinth  is  stormed 
by  the  Roman  army  under  Mummius.  The  Achajan  league  had 
been  goaded  into  hostilities  with  Rome  by  means  similar  to  those 
employed  against  Carthage.  The  greater  part  of  Southern  Greece 
is  made  a  Roman  province  under  the  name  of  Achaia. 

133.  Numantium  is  destroyed  by  Scipio  .Similianus.  "The  war 
against  the  Si:)aniards,  who,  of  all  the  nations  subdued  by  the 
Romans,  defended  their  liberty  with  the  greatest  obstimicy,  began 
in  the  year  200,  six  years  after  the  total  expulsion  of  the  Carthagi- 
nians from  their  country,  206.  It  was  exceedingly  obstinate,  partly 
from  the  natural  state  of  the  country,  which  was  thickly  popu- 
lated, and  where  every  place  became  a  fortress  ;  partly  from  the 
courage  of  the  inhabitants  ;  but  above  all,  owing  to  the  peculiar 
policy  of  the  Romans,  who  were  wont  to  employ  their  allies  to  subdue 
other  nations.  This  war  continued,  almost  without  interruption, 
from  the  year  200  to  133,  and  was  for  the  most  iiart  carried  on  at 
the  same  time  in  Hispania  Citerior,  where  the  Celtiberi  were  the 
most  formidable  adversaries,  and  in  Hispania  Ulterior,  where  the 
Lusitaniwere  equally  powerful.  Hostilities  were  at  the  highest 
pitch  in  195,  under  Cato,  who  reduced  Hispania  Citerior  to  a  (state 
of  tranquillity  in  185-179,  when  the  Celtiberi  were  attacked  in 
their  native  territory  and  155-150,  when  the  Romans  in  both  prov- 
inces were  so  often  beaten,  that  nothing  was  more  dreaded  by  the 
soldiers  at  home  than  to  be  sent  there.  The  extortions  and  perfidy 
of  Servius  Galba  placed  Viriathus,  in  the  year  146,  at  the  head  of 
his  nation,  tlie  Lusitani :  the  war,  however,  soon  extended  itself  to 
Hispania  Citerior,  where  many  nations,  particularly  the  Numan- 
tines,  took  up  arms  against  Rome,  143.     Viriathus,  sometimes  victo- 


SYNOPSIS  OF  EVENTS,  ETC.  103 

rius  and  sometimes  defeated,  was  never  more  formidable  than  in 
the  moment  of  defeat,  becaiise  he  knew  how  to  take  advantage  of  his 
knowledge  of  the  country  and  of  the  dispositions  of  his  countrymen. 
After  his"\Qurder,  caused  by  the  treachery  of  Ca3pio,  110.  Lusitania 
was  subdued  ;  but  the  Numantine  war  became  still  more  violent, 
and  the  Numantines  compelled  the  consul  Mansinus  to  a  disad- 
vantageous treaty,  137.  When  Scipio,  in  the  year  133,  put  an  end 
to  this  war,  Spain  was  certainly  tranquil  :  the  northern  parts,  how- 
.-ever,  were  still  unsubdued,  though  the  Eomans  penetrated  as  far 
•as  Galatia. "—  ( Hekken.  ) 

'  134.  Commencement  of  the  revolutionary  century  at  Eome,  i.  e., 
'from  the  time  of  the  excitement  produced  by  the  attempts  made 
by  the  Gracchi  to  reform  the  common-^j^lth,  to  the  battle  of  Ac- 
tium  (B.C.  31),  which  established  Octavianus  Cresar  as  sole  master 
of  the  Eoman  world.  Throughout  this  period  Kome  was  engaged 
in  important  foreign  wars,  most  of  which  procured  large  accessions 
to  her  territory. 

118-106.  The  Jugurthin«»  war.  Numidia  is  conquered,  and 
made  a  Roman  conquest. 

113-101.  The  great  and  terrible  war  of  the  Cimbri  and  Teutones 
against  Rome.  Tliese  nations  of  northern  warriors  slaughter  sev- 
■  eral  Roman  armies  in  Gaul,  and  in  102  attempt  to  penetrate  into 
Italy.  The  military  genius  of  Mau'u?  here  saves  his  country  ;  he 
defeats  the  Teutones  near  Aix,  in  Provence  ;  and  in  the  following 
year  he  destroys  the  army  of  the  Cimbri,  who  had  passed  the  Alps, 
near  Vercella3. 

91-88.  The  war  of  the  Italian  allies  against  Eome.  This  was 
caused  by  the  refusal  of  Eome  to  concede  to  them  the  rights  of 
Roman  citizenship.  After  a  sanguinary  struggle,  Eome  gradually 
concedes  it. 

89-85.  First  war  of  the  Romans  against  Mithradates  the  Great 
king  of  Pontus,  who  had  overrun  Asia  Minor,  Macedonia,  and 
Greece.  Sylla  defeats  his  armies,  and  forces  him  to  withdraw  his 
forces  from  Europe.  Sylla  returns  to  Eome  to  carry  on  the  civil 
war  against  the  son  and  partisans  of  Marius.  He  makes  himself 
dictator. 

74-G4.  The  last  Mithradatic  wars.  Lucullus,  and  after  him 
Pompeius,  command  against  the  great  king  of  Pontus,  who  at  last 
is  poisoned  by  his  son,  while  designing  to  raise  the  warlike  tribes 
of  the  Danube  against  Eome,  and  to  invade  Italy  from  the  north- 
east. Great  Asiatic  conquests  of  the  Eomans.  Besides  the  ancient 
province  of  Pergamus,  the  maritime  counties  of  Bithynia  and 
nearly  all  Paphlagonia  and  Pontus,  are  formed  into  a  Eoman 
province  under  the  name  of  Bithynia,  while  on  the  southern  coast 
Cilicia  and  Pamphylia  form  another  under  the  name  of  Cilicia ; 
Phenicia  and  Syria  composea  third  under  the  name  of  Syria.  On 
the  other  hand.  Great  Armenia  is  left  to  Tigranes  ;  Cappadocia  to 
Ariobarzanes  ;  the  Bosphorus  to  Pharnaces  ;  Judiiea  to  liyrcauus  ; 


J  04  DEorSt  VJi  BA  TTLE8. 

and  some  other  small  states  are  also  given  to  petty  princes,  all  of 
■whom  remain  dependent  on  Kome. 

58-50.  Civsar  conqners  Gaul. 

54.  Crassus  attacks  the  Parthians  with  a  Roman  army,  but  i& 
overthrown  and  killed  at  Carrhre  in  Mesopotamia.  His  lieutenant 
Cassius  collects  the  wrecks  of  the  army,  and  prevents  the  Parthians 
from  conquering  Sj'ria. 

49^5.  The  civil  war  between  Cresar  and  the  Pompeian  party, 
Egypt,  Mauritania,  and  Pontus  are  involved  in  the  consequences 
of  this  war.  I 

44.  Caesar  is  killed  in  the  Capitol ;  the  civil  wars  are  soon  re- 
newed. 

42.  Death  of  Brutas  an^Cassius  at  PhilijDpi. 

31.  Death  of  Antonj'  and  Cleopatra.  Egypt  becomes  a  Roman 
province,  and  Augustus  Caesar  is  left  undisputed  master  of  Home, 
and  all  that  is  Eome'a. 


CHAPTER  v. 

TrCTOEY  OF  A3MINIUS   OVEB  THE   ROMAN   LEGIONS   UNDSB 
VAEUS,    A.D.    i>. 

Hac  clade  factum  ut  Imperlum,  quod  in  litore  oceanl  non  steterat,  in  rlpa 
Ittiem  fiummis  staret.— Flobus. 

To  a  truly  illustrious  Frenchman,  whose  reverses  as  a  minister 
can  never  obscure  his  achievements  in  the  world  of  letters,  we  are 
indebted  for  the  most  profound  and  -most  eloquent  estimate  that 
we  possess  of  theimi^ortance  of  the  Germanic  element  in  European 
civilization,  and  of  the  extent  to  which  the  human  race  is  indebted 
to  those  brave  warriors  who  long  were  the  unconquered  antago- 
nists, and  finally  became  the  conquerers,  of  imperial  Rome. 

Twenty-three  eventful  years  have  passed  away  since  M.  Guizot 
delivered  from  the  chair  of  modern  history  at  Paris  his  course  of 
lectures  on  the  history  of  Civilization  in  Europe.  During  those 
years  the  spirit  of  earnest  inquiry  into  the  germs  and  jirimary  de- 
velopments of  existing  institutions  has  become  more  and  more 
active  and  universal,  and  the  merited  celebrity  of  M.  Guizot's  work 
has  i^roportionally  increased.  Its  admirable  analysis  of  the  com- 
plex political  and  social  organizations  of  which  the  modern  civil- 
ized world  is  made  up,  must  have  led  thoiisands  to  trace  with 
keener  interest  the  great  crises  of  times  past,  by  which  the  char- 
acteristics of  the  present  were  determined.  The  narrative  of  one 
v)f  these  great  crises,  of  the  epoch  a.  d.  9,  when  Germany  took  up 
urms  for  her  independence  against  Roman  invasion,   has  for  us 


VICTORY  OF  ARMINIU8.  105 

this  special  attraction — that  it  forms  part  of  our  o'^m  national  his- 
tory. Had  Arrainius  been  sujiine  or  unsuccessful,  our  Germanic 
ancestors  woi;lcl  have  been  enslaved  or  exterminated  in  their 
original  seats  alon^:;  the  Eyder  and  the  Elbe.  This  island  -would 
never  have  borne  the  name  of  England,  and  "we,  this  great  Eng- 
lish nation,  whose  race  and  langiiage  are  now  overrunning  tho 
^arth,  from  one  end  of  it  to  the  other,"*  would  have  been  utterly 
cut  off  from  existence. 

Arnold  may,  indeed,  go  too  far  in  holding  that  we  are  wholly 
unconnected  in  race  with  the  Romans  and  Britons  who  inhabited 
this  country  before  the  coming  over  of  the  Saxons;  that,  "  nation- 
ality speaking,  the  history  of  Caesar's  invasion  has  no  more  to  do 
with  us  than  the  natural  history  of  the  animals  which  then 
inbabited  our  forests."  There  seems  ample  evidence  to  prove 
that  the  Romanized  Celts  whom  our  Teutonic  forefathers  found 
here  influenced  materially  the  character  of  our  nation.  But  the 
main  stream  of  our  people  was  and  is  Germanic.  Our  language 
alone  decisively  proves  this.  Arminius  is  far  more  truly  one  of 
our  national  heroes  than  Caractacus;  and  it  was  our  own  primeval 
fatherland  that  the  brave  German  rescued  when  he  slaughtered 
the  Reman  legions  eighteen  centuries  ago,  in  the  marshy  glens 
between  the  Lippe  and  the  Ems.f 

Dark  and  disheartening,  even  to  heroic  spirits,  must  have  seemed 
the  prospects  of  Germany  when  Arminius  planned  the  general 
rising  of  his  countrymen  against  Rome.  Half  the  land  was  occu- 
pied by  Roman  garrisons;  and,  what  was  worse,  many  of  the 
Germans  seemed  patiently  acquiescent  in  their  state  of  bondage. 
The  braver  portion,  whose  patriotism  could  be  relied  on,  was  ill 
armed  and  undisciplined,  while  the  enemy's  troops  consisted  of 
veterans  in  the  highest  state  of  equipment  and  training,  familiar- 
ized with  victory,  and  commanded  by  officers  of  proved  skill  and 
valor.  The  resources  of  Rome  seemed  boundless ;  her  tenacity 
of  puri^ose  was  believed  to  be  invincible.  There  was  no  hope  of 
foreign  sympathy  or  aid  ;  for  "the  self-governing  powers  that  had 
filled  the  Old  World  had  bent  one  after  another  before  the  rising 
power  of  Rome,  and  had  vanished.  The  earth  seemed  left  void  of 
independent  nations.}; 

The  German  chieftain  knew  well  the  gigantic  power  of  the  op- 
pressor. Arminius  was  no  riidesavage,  fighting  out  of  mere  animal 
instinct,  or  in  ignorance  of  the  might  ot  his  adversary-.  He  was 
familiar  with  the  Roman  language  and  civilization  ;  he  had  served 
in  the  Roman  armies  ;  he  had  been  admitted  to  the  Roman  citizen- 
ship, and  raised  to  tho  rank  of  the  equestrian  order.  It  was  part 
of  the  subtle  policy  of  Rome  to  confer  rank  and  privileges  on  the 


*  Arnold's  "  Lectures  on  'Modern  Tllstorj." 

1  >3ee  liOHt,  remarks  on  the  relatlonslilp  between  Uie  Chenislc  and  the  Eng 
Usb.  X  iianek. 


m  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

youth  of  the  leading  families  in  the  nations  wliioli  she  wished  to 
enslave.  Among  otuer  j'oung  German  chieftains,  Arminius  and 
his  brother,  who  were  the  heads  of  the  noblest  house  in  the  tribe 
of  the  Cherusci,  had  been  selected  as  lit  objects  for  the  exercise  of 
this  insidious  system.  Roman  refinements  and  dignities  succeed- 
ed in  denationalizing  the  brother  who  assumed  the  Roman 
name  of  Flavius,  and  adhered  to  Rome  throughout  all  her  wars 
against  his  country.  Arminius  remained  unbought  by  honors  or 
wealth,  uncorrupted  by  refinement  or  luxury.  He  aspired  to  and 
obtained  from  Roman  enmity  a  higher  title  than  ever  could  have 
been  given  him  by  Roman  favor.  It  is  in  the  page  of  Rome's 
greatest  historian  that  his  name  has  come  down  to  us  with  the 
proud  addition  of  "Liberator  baud  dubie  Germanise."* 

Often  must  the  young  cheiftain,  while  meditating  the  exploit 
which  has  thus  immortalized  him,  have  anxiously  revolved  in  his 
mind  the  fate  of  the  many  great  men  who  had  been  crushed  in  the 
attempt  which  he  was  about  to  renew — the  attempt  to  stay  the 
chariot-wheels  of  triumphant  Rome.  Could  he  hope  to  succeed 
where  Hannibal  and  Mithradates  had  perished?  What  had  been 
the  doom  of  Viriathus?  and  what  warning  against  vain  valor  was 
written  on  the  desolate  site  where  Numantia  once  had  flourished  ? 
Nor  was  a  caution  wanting  in  scenes  nearer  home  and  more  recent 
times.  The  Gauls  had  fruitlessly  struggled  for  eight  years  against 
Ctesar;  and  the  gallant  Vercingetorix,  who  in  the  last  year  of  the 
war  had  roused  all  his  countrymen  to  insurrection,  who  had  cut 
off  Roman  detachments,  and  brought  Caesar  himself  to  the  extreme 
of  peril  at  Alesia— he,  too,  had  finally  succumbed,  had  been  led 
captive  in  Cajsar's  triumph,  and  iad  then  been  butchered  in  cold 
blood  in  a  Roman  dungeon. 

It  was  true  that  Rome  was  no  longer  the  great  military  republic 
which  for  so  many  ages  had  shattered  the  kingdoms  of  the  world. 
Her  system  of  government  was  changed;  and  after  a  century  of 
revolution  and  civil  war,  she  had  placed  herself  under  the  despot- 
ism of  a  single  ruler.  But  the  discipline  of  her  troops  was  yet  un- 
impaired, and  her  warlike  spirit  seemed  unabated.  The  first  year 
of  the  empire  had  been  signalized  by  conquests  as  valuable  as  any 
gained  by  the  republic  in  a  corresponding  period.  It  is  a  great 
fallacy,  though  apparently  sanctioned  by  great  authorities,  to  sup- 
pose that  the  foreign  policy  pursued  by  Augustus  was  pacific;  he 
certainly  recommended  such  a  policy  to  his  successors  {incertmn 
meiu  an  per  invidiam,  Tag.,  A7in.,i.,  11;,  but  he  himself,  until  Ar- 
minius broke  his  spirit,  had  followed  a  very  different  course. 
Besides  his  Spanish  wars,  his  generals,  in  a  series  of  generally 
aggressive  campaigns,  had  extended  the  Roman  frontier  from  the 
Alps  to  the  Danube,  and  had  reduced  into  subjection  the  large 
and  important  countries  that  now  form  the  territories  of  all  Austria 

*  Tacitus,  "  Annals,"  U.,  88. 


VICTORY  OF  ABMimUS.  107 

BOutli  of  that  river,  and  of  East  Switzerland,  Lower  Wirtembergt 
Bavaria,  the  Yaltelline,  and  the  Tyrol.  AVhile  the  progress  of  the 
Boman  arms  thus  pressed  the  Germans  from  the  south,  still  more 
formidable  inroads  had  been  made  by  the  imperial  legions  on  the 
west.  Eoman  armies,  moving  from  the  province  of  Gaul,  estab- 
lished a  chain  of  fortresses  along  the  right  as  well  as  the  left  bank 
of  the  Ehine,  and,  in  a  series  of  victorious  campaigns,  advanced 
, their  eagles  as  far  as  the  Elbe,  which  now  seemed  added  to  the  list 
of  vassal  rivers,  to  the  Nile,  the  Ehine,  the  Ehone,  the  Danube, 
the  Tagus,  the  Seine,  and  many  more,  that  acknowledged  the 
supremacy  of  the  Tiber.  Eoman  fleets  also,  sailing  from  the  harbors 
of  Gaul  along  the  German  coasts  and  up  the  estuaries,  co-operated 
with  the  land-forces  of  the  empire,  and  seemed  to  display,  even 
more  decisively  than  her  armies,  her  overwhelming  superiority 
over  the  rude  Germanic  tribes.  Throughout  the  territory  thus  in- 
vaded, the  Eomans  had,  with  their  usual  military  skill,  established 
fortified  posts  ;  and  a  powerful  army  of  occupation  was  kejjt  on 
foot,  ready  to  move  instantly  on  any  spot  where  any  popular  out- 
break might  be  attempted. 

Vast,  however,  and  admirably  organized  as  the  fabric  of  Roman 
power  appeared  on  the  frontiers  and  in  the  provinces,  there  was 
rottenness  at  the  core.  In  Eome's  unceasing  hostilities  with  foreign 
foes,  and  still  more  in  her  long  series  of  desolating  civil  wars, 
the  free  middle  classes  of  Italy  had  almost  wholly  disappeared. 
Above  tlie  position  which  they  had  occupied,  an  oligarchy  of 
wealth  had  reared  itself ;  beneath  that  position,  a  degraded  mass 
of  poverty  and  misery  was  fermenting.  Slaves,  the  chance  sweep- 
ings of  every  conquered  country,  shoals  of  Afi'icans,  Sardinians, 
Asiatics,  Illj'rians,  and  others,  made  up  the  bulk  of  the  population 
of  the  Italian  peninsula.  The  foulest  profligacy  of  manners  was 
general  in  all  ranks.  In  universal  weariness  of  revolution  and 
.civil  war,  and  in  consciousness  of  being  too  debased  for  self-gov- 
ernment, the  nation  had  submitted  itself  to  the  absolute  authority 
of  Augustus.  Adulation  was  now  the  chief  function  of  the  senate; 
and  the  gifts  of  genius  and  accomplishments  of  art  were  devoted 
to  the  elaboration  of  eloquently  false  panegyrics  upon  the  prince 
and  his  favorite  courtiers.  With  bitter  indignation  must  the  Ger- 
man chieftain  have  beheld  all  this,  and  contrasted  with  it  the 
rough  worth  of  his  own  countrymen:  their  bravery,  their  fidelity 
to  their  word,  their  manly  independence  of  spirit,  their  love  of 
their  national  free  institutions,  and  their  loathing  of  every  pollu- 
tion and  meanness.  Above  all,  he  must  have  thought  of  the 
domestic  virtues  that  hallowed  a  German  home;  of  the  respect  there 
shown  to  the  female  character,  and  of  the  pure  affection  by  which 
that  resjiect  was  repaid.  His  soul  must  have  burned  within  him 
at  the  contemplation  of  such  a  race  yielding  to  these  debased 
Italians. 
V   Still,  to  persuade  the  Germans  to  combine,  in  spite  of  their 


108  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

frequent  feuds  aruong  themselTes,  in  one  sudden  outbreak  ugainst 
Eome:  to  keep  the  gchtnie  concealed  ficnj  tl.e  Eomans  until  the 
hour  for  action  arri\ed;  and  then,  without  jiossessing  a  single 
■walled  town,  without  military  stores,  withotit  training,  to  teach 
his  insurgent  countrymen  to  defeat  veteran  armies  and  storm  for- 
tifications, seemed  so  perilous  an  enterprise,  that  probaLly  Armin- 
ius  would  have  receded  from  it  had  not  a  stronger  feeling  even 
than  patriotism  urged  him  on.  Among  the  Germans  of  high  rank 
who  had  most  readily  submitted  to  the  invaders,  and  become  zeal- 
ous partisans  of  Eoman  authority,  was  a  chieftain  named  Segestes. 
His  daughter,  Thusuelda,  was  pre-eminent  among  the  noble 
maidens  of  Germany.  Arminius  had  sought  her  hand  in  marriage; 
but  Seg(  stes,  who  probaLly  discerned  the  young  chief's  disafifection 
to  Eome,  forbade  his  suit,  and  strove  to  preclude  all  communica- 
tion between  him  and  his  daughter.  Thusnelda,  however,  sym- 
pathized far  more  with  the  heroic  spirit  of  her  lover  than  with  the 
time-serving  policy  of  her  father.  An  elopement  bafEied  the  pre- 
cautions of  Segestes,  who,  disajspointed  in  his  hope  of  preventing 
the  marriage,  accused  Arminius  before  the  Eoman  governor  of  hav- 
ing carried  off  his  daughter,  and  of  planning  treason  against  Eome. 
Thus  assailed,  and  dreading  to  see  his  bride  torn  from  him  by  the 
officials  of  the  foreign  oppressor,  Arminius  delayed  no  longer,  but 
bent  iill  his  energies  to  organize  and  execute  a  generai  insiirrec- 
tion  of  the  great  mass  of  his  countrymen,  who  hitherto  had  sub- 
mitted in  sulhn  hatred  to  the  Eoman  dominion. 

A  change  of  governors  had  recently  taken  place,  which,  while  it 
materially  favored  the  ultimate  success  of  the  insurgents,  served, 
by  the  immediate  aggravation  of  the  Eoman  oppressions  which  it 
produced,  to  make  the  native  population  more  universally  eager 
to  take  arms.  Tiberius,  who  was  afterward  emperor,  had  recently 
been  recalled  from  the  command  in  Germany,  and  sent  into  Pan- 
tionia  to  put  down  a  dangerous  revolt  which  had  broken  out 
ftgainst  the  Eomans  in  that  province.  The  German  patriots  were 
thus  delivered  from  the  stern  supervision  of  one  of  the  most  suspi- 
cious of  mankind,  and  were  also  relieved  Irom  having  to  contend 
against  the  high  military  talents  of  a  veteran  commander,  who 
thoroughly  understood  their  national  character,  and  also  the  na- 
ture of  the  country,  which  he  himseK  had  principally  subdued. 
In  the  room  of  Tiberius,  Augustus  sent  into  Germany  Quintiliua 
Varus,  who  had  lately  returned  from  the  proconsulate  of  Syria. 
Varus  was  a  true  representative  of  the  higher  classes  of  the  Eo- 
mans, among  whom  a  general  taste  lor  literature,  a  keep  suscepti- 
bility to  all  intellectual  gratifications,  a  minute  acquaintance  with 
the  principles  and  practice  of  their  own  national  jurisprudence,  a 
careful  training  in  the  schools  of  the  rhetoricians  and  a  fondness 
for  either  partaking  in  or  watching  the  intellectual  strife  of  foren- 
sic oratory,  had  become  generally  difiused,  without,  however, 
iiaving  humanized  the  old  Eoman  spirit  of  cruel  indifference  for 


VICTORY  OF  ARMINIUS.  109 

human  feelings  and  hnmnn  sufferings,  and  Avithont  acting  as  the 
least  checks  on  principled  avarice  and  ambition,  or  on  habitual 
and  gross  proliigucy.  Accustomed  to  govern  tlie  depraved  and 
debased  natives  of  Syria,  a  coiintry  where  courage  in  man  and 
virtue  in  woman  had  for  centuries  been  unknown,  Varus  thought 
that  he  might  gratify  his  licentioiis  and  rapacious  passions  with 
equal  impunity  among  the  high-minded  sons  and  pure-spirited 
daughters  of  Germany.  *  "V\'hen  the  general  of  an  army  sets  the 
example  of  outrages  of  this  description,  he  is  soon  faithfully  imi- 
tated  by  his  officers,  and  surpassed  by  his  still  more  brutal  sol- 
diery. The  Eomans  now  habitually  indiilged  m  those  violations 
of  the  sanctity  of  the  domestic  shrine,  and  those  insults  upon 
honor  and  modesty,  by  which  far  less  gallant  spirits  than  those  of 
our  Teutonic  ancestors  have  often  been  maddened  into  insurrec- 
tion. 

Arminiiis  found  among  the  other  Geripan  chiefs  many  who 
sympathized  with  him  in  his  indignation  at  their  country's  abase- 
ment, and  many  whom  private  wrongs  had  stung  yet  more  deeply. 
There  was  little  difficulty  in  collecting  bold  leaders  for  an  attack 
on  the  oj^ijressors,  and  little  fear  of  tl:e  population  not  rising 
readily  at  those  leaders'  call.  But  to  declare  open  war  against 
Rome,  and  to  encounter  Varus's  army  in  a  pitched  battle,  would 
have  been  merely  rushing  upon  certain  destruction.  Varus  had 
three  legions  under  him,  a  force  which,  after  allowing  for  detach- 
ments, cannot  be  estimated  at  less  than  fourteen  thousand  lloman 
infantrj'.  He  had  also  eight  or  nine  hundred  Eoman  cavalry,  and 
at  least  an  equal  number  of  horse  and  foot  sent  from  the  allied 
states,  or  raised  among  other  provincials  who  had  not  received  the 
Koman  franchise. 

It  was  not  merely  the  number,  but  the  quality  of  this  force  that 
made  them  formidable  ;  and,  however  contemptible  Varus  might 
be  as  a  general,  Arminius  well  knew  how  admirably  the  Soman 

*  I  camiot  forbear  quoting  Macaulay's  beautiful  lines,  where  he  de- 
scribes how  similar  outrages  In  the  early  times  of  Rome  goaded  the  ple^ 
beians  to  rise  against  the  patricians : 
•'  Heap  heavier  still  the  fetters ,  bar  closer  still  the  grate ; 
Patient  as  sheep  we  yield  us  up  tmto  your  cruel  hate. 
But  Ijy  the  shades  beneath  us,  and  by  the  gods  above, 
Add  not  unto  your  cruel  hate  your  still  more  cruel  love. 

*  ,    *  *  * 

Then  leave  the  poor  plebeian  his  single  tie  to  life— 
The  sweet,  sweet  love  of  daughter,  of  sister,  and  of  wife, 
The  gentle  speech,  the  balm  for  all  that  his  vex'd  soul  endures, 
The  kiss  In  which  he  half  forgets  even  such  a  yoke  as  yours. 
Still  let  tiie  maiden's  beauty  swell  t  lie  fatlier's  breast  with  pride ; 
Still  li>ttlK'  bridegroom's  arms  enfold  an  nii polluted  bride. 
Spare  us  tlie  Inexpiable  wrong,  tlie  unutterable  sliame, 
That  turns  tlie  coward's  heart  to  steel,  the  sluggard  s  blood  to  flame ; 
Leet  when  our  latest  hope  Is  fled  ye  taste  of  our  despair, 
And  learn  by  proof,  in  some  'wild  hour,  how  much  the  wretched  dare. 


1 1 0  DECISIVE  BA  TTLES. 

armies  ^^ero  origan izoci  and  officered,  and  how  perfectly  the  legion* 
aries  understood  every  maneuver  and  every  duty  which  the  vary- 
ing emergencies  of  a  stricken  field  might  reqiiire.  Stratagem  was, 
therefore,  indispensal)le  ;  and  it  was  necessary  to  blind  Varus  to 
their  schemes  tmtil  a  favorable  opportunity  should  arrive  for  strik- 
ing a  decisive  blow. 

For  this  purpose,  the  German  confederaxes  frequented  the  head- 
quarters of  Varies,  which  seem  to  have  been  near  the  center  of  the 
modern  country  of  Westphalia,  where  the  Roman  general  conduct- 
ed himself  with  all  the  arrogant  security  of  the  ^^overnor  of  a  per- 
fectly submissive  province.  There  Varus  gratified  at  once  his 
vanity,  his  rhetorical  tastes,  and  his  avarice,  by  holding  courts,  to 
which  he  summoned  the  Germans  for  the  settlement  of  all  their 
disputes,  while  a  bar  of  Eoman  advocates  attended  to  argue  the 
cases  before  the  tribunal  of  Varus,  who  did  not  omit  the  opportu- 
nity of  exacting  court-fees  and  accepting  bribes.  Varus  trusted 
implicitly  to  the  respect  which  the  Germans  pretended  to  jDay  to 
his  abilities  as  a  judge,  and  to  the  interest  which  they  afi'ected  to 
take  in  the  forensic  eloquence  of  their  conquerers.  Meanwhile,  a 
succession  of  heavy  rains  rendered  the  country  more  difficiilt  for 
the  operations  of  regular  troops,  and  Arminius,  seeing  that  the  in- 
fatuation of  Varus  was  complete,  secretly  directed  the  tribes  near 
the  Weser  and  the  Ems  to  take  up  arms  in  open  revolt  against  the 
Romans.  This  was  represented  to  Varus  as  an  occasion  which  re- 
quired his  prompt  attendanceatthe  spot ;  but  he  was  kept  in  stud- 
ied ignorance  of  its  being  i^art  of  a  concerted  national  rising  ;  and 
he  still  looked  on  Arminius  as  his  submissive  vassal,  whose  aid  he 
might  rely  on  in  facilitating  the  march  of  his  troops  against  the 
rebels,  and  in  extinquishing  the  local  disturbance.  He  therefore 
set  his  army  in  motion,  and  marched  eastward  in  a  line  parallel 
to  the  course  of  the  Lippe.  For  some  distance  his  route  lay  along 
a  level  plain  ;  but  arriving  at  the  tract  between  the  curve  of  the 
upper  part  of  that  stream  and  the  sources  of  the  Ems,  the  country 
assumes  a  very  different  character  ;  and  here,  in  the  territory  of  the 
modern  little  principality  of  Lippe,  it  was  that  Arminius  had  fixed 
the  scene  of  his  enterprise. 

A  woody  and  hilly  region  intervenes  between  the  heads  of  the 
two  rivers,  and  forms  the  water-shed  of  their  streams.  This  region 
still  retains  the  name  (  Teutoberger  wald  =  Teutobergiensissaltus  ) 
which  it  bore  in  the  days  of  Arminius.  The  nature  of  the  ground 
Jias  probably  also  remained  unaltered.  The  eastern  part  of  it, 
yound  Detmold,  the  modern  capital  of  the  jirincii^ality  of  Lippe,  is 
described  by  a  modern  German  scholar.  Dr.  Plate,  as  being  a 
"table-land  intersected  by  numerous  deep  and  narrow  valleys, 
which  in  some  places  form  small  plains,  surrounded  by  steep 
mountains  and  rocks,  and  only  accessible  by  narrow  defiles. 
All  the  valleys  are  traversed  by  rapid  streams,  shallow  in  the  dry 
season,  but  subject  to  sudden  swellings  in  autumn  and  ranter. 


VICTORY  OF  AUMimUS.  Ill 

The  vast  forests  -which  cover  the  summits  and  slopes  of  the  hills 
consist  chiefly  of  oak  ;  there  is  little  underwood,  and  botli  men  and 
horse  would  move  with  ease  in  the  forests  if  the  ground  were  not 
broken  by  gulleys,  or  rendered  impracticable  by  fallen  trees." 
This  is  the  district  to  which  Varus  is  supposed  to  have  marched  ; 
and  Dr.  Plate  adds,  that  "the  names  of  several  localities  on  and 
near  that  spot  seem  to  indicate  that  a  great  battle  has  once  been 
fought  there.  "We  find  the  names  '  das  Winnefeld '  ( the  field  of 
victory  ),  '  die  Knochenbabn'  (the  bone-lane  ),  'die  Knochenleke' 
( the  bone-brook  ),  '  der  Mordkessel '  ( the  kettle  of  slaughter),  and 
others."*     ' 

Contrary  to  the  usual  strict  principles  of  Eoman  discipline, 
Varus  had  suflered  his  army  to  be  accompanied  and  impeded  by  an 
immense  train  of  baggage-wagons  and  by  a  rabble  of  camp  follow- 
ers, as  if  his  troops  had  been  merely  changing  their  quarters  in  a 
friendly  country.  When  the  long  array  quitted  the  firm  level 
ground,  and  began  to  wind  its  way  among  the  woods,  the  marshes, 
and  the  ravines,  the  difficulties  of  the  march,  even  without  the 
intervention  of  an  armed  foe,  became  fearfully  apparent.  In 
many  places,  the  soil,  sodden  with  rain,  was  impracticable  for 
cavalry,  and  even  for  infantry,  until  trees  had  been  felled,  and  a 
rude  causeway  formed  through  the  morass. 

The  duties  of  the  engineer  were  familiar  to  all  who  served  in 
the  lloman  armies.  But  the  crowd  and  confusion  of  the  columns 
embarassed  the  working  parties  of  the  soldiery,  and  in  the  midst 
of  their  toil  and  disorder  the  word  was  suddenly  passed  through 
their  ranks  that  the  rear  guard  ^\  as  attacked  by  the  barbarians. 
Varus  resolved  on  pressing  forward;  but  a  heavy  discharge  of 
missiles  from  the  woods  on  either  flank  taught  him  how  serious 
was  the  peril,  and  he  saw  his  best  men  falling  round  him  without 
the  opportunity  of  retaliation ;  for  his  light-armed  auxiliaries,  who 
were  principally  of  Germanic  race,  now  rapidly  deserted,  and  it 
was  impossible  to  deploy  the  legionaries  on  such  broken  ground 
for  a  charge  against  the  enemy.  Choosing  one  of  the  most  open 
and  firm  spots  which  they  could  force  their  way  to,  the  Romans 
halted  for  the  night;  and,  faithful  to  their  national  discipline  and 
tactics,  formed  their  camp  amid  the  harassing  attacks  of  the 
rapidly  thronging  foes,  with  the  elaborate  toil  and  systematic 
skill,  the  traces  of  which  are  impressed  permanently  on  the  soil 
of  so  many  European  countries,  attesting  the  presence  in  the  olden 
time  of  the  Imperial  eagles. 

On  the  morrow  the  Itoiimns  renewed  their  march,  the  veteran 
officers  who  served  under  Varus  now  probably  directing  the  oper- 
ations, and  hoping  to  find  the  Germans  drawn  up  to  meet  thorn' 
in  which  case  they   relied  on  their  own  superior  discipline  and 

*  1  am  tnrlebtert  for  much  valuable  Information  on  tills  subject  to  mf 
friend,  Mr.  iieury  Pearson. 


112  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

tactics  for  sucli  a  victory  as  bIiouLI  reassure  the  supremacy  of 
Ilome.  But  Anninius  was  far  loo  sage  a  commander  to  lead  on 
his  followers,  with  their  unwieldy  broadswords  and  mefdcient  de- 
fensive armor,  against  the  Koman  legionaries,  fully  armed  with 
helmet,  cuirass,  greaves,  and  shield,  who  were  skilled  to  commence 
the  confiiot  with  a  murderous  volley  of  heavy  javelins,  hurled 
upon  the  foe  when  a  few  yards  distant,  and  then,  with  their  short 
cut-and-thrust  swords,  to  hew  their  way  through  all  opposition, 
preserving  the  utmost  steadiness  and  coolness,  and  obeying  each 
word  of  command  in  the  midst  of  strife  and  slaiaghter  with  the 
same  precision  and  alertness  as  if  upon  parade.*  Arminius 
suffered  the  Eomans  to  march  out  from  their  camp,  to  form  first 
in  line  for  action,  and  then  in  column  for  marching,  without  the 
show  of  opposition.  For  some  distance  Varus  was  allowed  to 
move  on,  only  harassed  by  slight  skirmishes,  but  struggling  with 
difficulty  through  the  broken  ground,  the  toil  and  distress  of  his 
men  being  aggravated  by  heavy  torrents  of  rain,  which  burst  upon 
the  devoted  legions,  as  if  the  angry  gods  of  Germany  were  poiaring 
out  the  vials  of  their  wrath  upon  the  invaders.  After  some  little 
time  their  van  approached  a  ridge  of  high  woody  ground,  which  is 
one  of  the  otfshcots  of  the  great  Hercynian  foreit,  and  is  sitiiato 
between  the  modern  villages  of  Dribui-g  and  Bielefeld.  Arminius 
tad  caused  barricades  of  hewn  trees  to  be  formed  here,  so  as  to 
add  to  the  natural  difficulties  of  the  passage.  Fatigue  and  dis- 
couragement now  began  to  betray  themselves  in  the  Koman  ranks. 
Their  line  became  loss  steady;  baggage  wagons  were  abandoned 
from  the  impossibilitj^  of  forcing  them  along;  and,  as  this  hajipen- 
ed,  many  soldiers  left  their  ranks  and  crowded  round  the  wagons 
to  secure  the  most  valuable  iDortions  of  their  property:  each  was 
busy  about  his  own  affairs,  and  purposely  slow  in  hearing  the 
word  of  command  from  his  officers.  Arminius  now  gave  the  sig- 
nal for  a  general  attack.  The  fierce  shouts  of  the  Germans  pealed 
through  the  gloom  of  the  forests,  and  in  thronging  multitudes 
they  assaiLed  the  flanks  of  the  invaders,  pouring  in  clouds  of  darts 
on  the  encumbered  legionaries,  as  they  struggled  up  the  glens  or 
floundered  in  the  morasses,  and  watching  every  opportunity  of 
charging  through  the  intervals  of  the  disjointed  column,  and  so 
cutting  off  the  commimication  between  its  several  brigades.  Ar- 
minius, with  a  chosen  band  of  personal  retainers  round  him, 
jcheered  on  his  countrymen  by  voice  and  example.  He  and  his 
'  men  aimed  their  weapons  particularly  at  the  horses  of  the  Roman 
cavalry.  The  wounded  animals,  slippiDg  about  in  the  mire  and 
their  own  blood,  threw  their  riders  and  plunged  among  the  ranks 
of  the  legions,  disordering  all  round  them.     Varus  now  ordered 

*  See  Gibbon's  description  (vol.  i.,  chap.  1 )  of  the  Roman  regions  in  the 
time  ot  Augustus ;  and  see  the  description  in  I'acitus,  "Ann.,-'  lib.  i.,  ol  the 
Bubseciuont  battles  between  Cajcina  and  Arminius. 


VICTOBY  OF  ARMINIUS.  113 

the  troops  to  be  countermarched,  in  the  hope  of  reaching  the 
nearest  lioman  garrison  on  the  Lippe.*  But  retreat  now  was  as 
impracticable  as  advance;  and  the  falling  back  of  the  Eomans 
only  augmented  the  courage  of  their  assailants,  and  caused  fiercer 
and  more  frequent  charges  on  the  flanks  of  the  disheartened 
army.  The  Eoman  officer  who  commanded  the  cavalry,  Numon- 
ius  Vala,  rode  off  with  his  squadrons  in  the  vain  hope  of  escajiing 
by  thus  abandoning  his  comrades.  Unable  to  keep  together,  or 
force  their  way  across  the  vvoods  and  swamps,  the  horsemen  were 
overpowered  in  detail,  and  slaiightered  to  the  last  man.  The  Ko- 
^man  infantry  still  held  together  and  resisted,  but  more  throiigh 
the  instinct  of  discipline  and  bravery  than  Irom  any  hope  of  suc- 
cess or  escape.  Varus,  after  being  severely  wounded  in  a  charge 
of  the  Germans  against  his  part  of  the  column,  committed  suicide 
to  avoid  falling  into  the  hands  of  those  whom  he  had  exasperated 
by  his  oppressions.  One  of  the  lieutenant  generals  of  the  army 
fell  fighting  ;  the  other  siirrendered  to  the  enemy.  But  mercy  to 
a  fallen  foe  had  never  been  a  Koman  virtue,  and'  those  among  her 
legions  who  now  laid  down  their  arms  in  hope  of  quarter,  drank 
deep  of  the  cup  of  sufiering,  which  Eome  had  held  to  the  lips  of 
many  a  brave  but  unfortunate  enemy.  The  infuriated  Germans 
slaughtered  their  oppressors  with  deliberate  ferocity,  and  those 
prisoners  who  were  not  hewn  to  pieces  on  the  spot  were  only  pre- 
served to  perish  by  a  more  cruel  death  in  cold  blood. 

The  bulk  of  the  Eoman  army  fought  steadily  and  stubbornly, 
frequently  repelling  the  masses  of  assailants,  but  gradually  losing 
the  compactness  of  their  arraj',  and  becoming  weaker  and  weaker 
beneath  the  incessant  shower  of  darts  and  the  reiterated  assaults 
of  the  vigorous  and  unencumbered  Germans.  At  last,  in  a  series 
of  desperate  attacks,  the  column  was  pierced  through  and  through, 
two  of  the  eagles  captured,  and  the  Koman  host  which  ontheyester 
morning  had  marched  forth  in  such  pride  and  might,  now  broken 
up  into  confused  fragments,  either  fell  fighting  beneath  the  over- 
powering numbers  of  the  enemy,  or  perished  in  the  swamps  and 
woods  in  unavailing  elforts  at  flight.  Few,  very  few,  ever  saw 
again  the  left  bank  of  the  Khine.  One  body  of  brave  veterans, 
arraying  themselves  in  a  ring  on  a  little  mound,  beat  off  every 

*  The  circumstances  of  the  early  part  of  the  battle  which  Arminlus  fought 
vvlth  t:!ncina  six  years  allerward  evidently  resemhled  those  of  his  battle 
witli  Varus,  and  the  result  was  verj'  near  being  the  same :  I  have  t  lierclore 
adopted  part  of  the  description  which  '1  acitus  gives  ( '  Annal..  lib..  1  ,  c.  tiS) 
of  the  last^mentioned  engagement:  •'Neque  tamen  Arniiulus.  quuinquam 
llbero  Incursu,  statini  prorupit:  sed  lit  haesere  cceno  Icssisciueiinpediiueuta, 
turb.itl  circum  milites;  inccrtus  signorum  ordo;  utquc  tali  in  tenqjore  slbi 
qnis  pie  inopeiiLs,  et  lenta)  adversuni  mperia  aures  irnunpoic  Gcnnanos 
lulx't,  claniltans  'En  varus,  et  eodeui  Iterum  fato  vlctic  legiones!'  f-lmul 
na;c,  ct  cum  delectia  scindlt  agmen,  equlsque  maxime  vulnera  ingcrit;  1111 
sanguine  suo  et  lubrlco  paludum  lapsautes,  excussis  rectoribus,  disjiccre 
obvioB,  proterere  jacentes.' " 


114  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

charge  of  the  Germans,  and  prolonged  their  honorable  resistance 
to  the  close  of  that  dreadful  day.  The  traces  of  a  feeble  attempt  at 
forming  a  ditch  and  mound  attested  in  after  years  the  spot  where 
the  last  of  thellomans  passed  their  nightof  sufl'ering  and  despair. 
But  on  the  morrow  this  remnant  also,  worn  oiit  with  hunger, 
V'ounds,  and  toil,  was  charged  by  the  victorious  Germans,  and 
■either  massacred  on  the  sijot,  or  offered  up  in  fearful  rites  at  the 
fcltars  of  the  deities  of  the  old  mythology  of  the  North. 

A  gorge  in  the  mountain  ridge,  through  which  runs  the  modern 
road  between  Paderborn  and  Pyrmont,  leads  from  the  spot  where 
the  heat  of  the  battle  raged  to  the  Extersteine,  a  cluster  of  bold 
and  grotesque  rocks  of  sandstone,  near  which  is  a  small  sheet  of 
watei-,  overshadowed  by  a  grove  of  aged  trees.  According  to  local 
tradition,  this  was  one  of  the  sacred  groves  of  the  ancient  Germans, 
and  it  was  here  that  the  Roman  captives  were  slain  in  sacrifice  by 
the  victorious  warriors  of  Arminius.  * 

Never  was  a  victory  more  decisive,  never  was  the  liberation  of 
an  oppressed  people  more  instantaneous  and  complete.  Through- 
out Germany  the  Koman  garrisons  were  assailed  and  cut  oflf;  and, 
within  a  few  weeks  after  Varus  had  fallen,  the  German  soil  was 
freed  from  the  foot  of  an  invader. 

At  Eome  the  tidings  of  the  battle  were  received  with  an  agony 
of  terror,  the  reports  of  which  we  should  deem  exaggerated,  did 
they  not  come  from  Eoman  historians  themselves.  They  not  only 
tell  emphatically  how  great  was  the  awe  which  the  Eomans  felt  of 
the  prowess  of  the  Germans,  if  their  various  tribes  could  be 
brought  to  unite  for  a  common  purpose,  f  but  also  they  reveal  how 
•weakened  and  debased  the  population  of  Italy  had  become.  Dion 
Cassius  says  (lib.  Ivi.,  sec.  23 1,  "Then  Augustus,  when  he  heard 
the  calamity  of  Varus,  rent  his  garment,  and  was  in  great  affliction 
for  the  troops  he  had  lost,  and  for  terror  respecting  the  Germans 
and  the  Gauls.  And  his  chief  alarm  was,  that  he  expected  them 
to  push  on  against  Italy  and  Rome  ;  and  there  remained  no 
Roman  youth  fit  for  military  duty  that  were  worth  speaking  of, 
and  the  allied  populations,  that  were  at  all  serviceable,  had  been 
wasted  away.  Yet  he  prepared  for  the  emergency  as  well  as  his 
means  allowed  ;  and  when  none  of  the  citizens  of  military  age 
■were  willing  to  enlist,  he  made  them  cast  lots,  and  punished  by 
\ 

*  "  Lucis  propinquis  harbarag  arje,  apud  quas  tribunes  ac  prlmorum  or-f 
dinum  centuridncs  mactaverant." — Tacitus,  Ann.,  lib.  i.,  c  61. 

t  It  is  cli';ir  tliiit  the  Romans  followed  the  policy  or  fomentinf?  dissensions 
and  wars  ol  tlic  Germans  among  themselves.  See  the  thirty-second  section 
o£  the  -'Germania  "  of  'i'aeitus,  where  he  mentions  the  destruction  of  the 
Bructert  by  tlie  neighboring  tribes;  "  Favore  quodara  ergamos  deorum : 
nam  ne  speetaculo  quidem  proelii  invldere;  super  Ix.  milha  nou  armis  tel- 
Isque  Eomanis,  sed  quod  raagnificentius  est,  oblectatiom  oculisque  cecide- 
runt.  ISlaneat  quajso,  duretque  gentibus,  si  non  amor  nostri,  at  certe  odium 
sui :  quando  urgentibus  Imperu  fatis,  hlhll  Jam  priestare  lor  tuna  majua 
potest  quam  liostium  discordiam.' ' 


VICTORY  OF  AEMIXIUS.  115 

confiscation  of  goods  and  disfranchisement  every  fifth  man  among 
those  under  thirty-five,  and  every  teuth  man  of  those  above  that 
age.  At  last,  when  he  found  that  not  even  thus  couhl  he  make 
many  come  forward,  he  put  some  of  them  to  death.  So  he  made 
a  conscription  of  discharged  veterans  and  of  emancipated  .shives, 
and,  coUecting  as  large  a. force  as  he  could,  sent  it,  under  Tiberius, 
■with  all  speed  into  Germany." 

I  Dion  mentions,  also,  a  number  of  terrific  portents  that  were  be- 
'lieved  to  have  occurred  at  the  time,  and  the  narration  of  which 
is  not  immaterial,  as  it  shows  the  state  of  the  public  mind,  when 
such  things  were  so  believed  in  and  so  interpreted.  The  summits 
of  the  Alps  were  said  to  have  fallen,  and  three  columns  of  fire  to 
have  blpzed  up  from  them.  In  the  Campus  Martius,  the  temple  of 
the  war-god,  from  whom  the  founder  of  Kome  had  si^rung,  was 
sti-uck  by  a  thunderbolt.  The  nightly  heavens  glowed  several 
times,  as  if  on  fire.  Many  comets  blazed  forth  together;  and  fiery 
meteors  shaped  like  spears,  had  shot  fi'om  the  northern  quarter 
of  the  sky  down  into  the  Roman  camps.  It  was  said,  too,  that  a 
statue  of  Victory,  which  had  stood  at  a  place  on  the  frontier,  point- 
ing the  way  toward  Germany,  had,  of  its  own  accord,  turned 
round,  and  now  pointed  to  Italy.  These  and  other  prodigies  were 
believed  by  the  multitude  to  accompany  the  slaughter  of  Varus's 
legions,  and  to  manifest  the  anger  of  the  gods  against  Kome. 
Augustus  himself  was  not  free  from  superstition  ;  biat  on  this 
occasion  no  supernatural  terrors  were  needed  to  increase  the  alarm 
and  grief  that  he  felt,  and  which  made  him,  even  months  after  the 
news  of  the  battle  had  arrived,  often  beat  his  head  against  the 
wall,  and  exclaim,  "Quintilius  Varus,  give  me  back  my  legions." 
We  learn  this  from  his  biographer  Suetonius  ;  and,  indeed,  every 
ancient  writer  who  alludes  to  the  overthrow  of  Varus  attests  the 
importance  of  the  blow  against  the  Koman  power,  and  the  bitter- 
ness with  which  it  was  felt.* 

The  Germans  did  not  pursue  their  victory  beyond  their  own 
territory ;  but  that  victory  secured  at  once  and  forever  the  inde- 
pendence of  the  Teutonic  race.  Rome  sent,  indeed,  her  legions, 
again  into  Germany, to  parade  a  temporary  superiority,  but  all  hopes 
©f  permanent  conquests  were  abandoned  by  Augustus  and  his  suc- 
cessors. 

The  blow  which  Arminixis  had  struck  never  was  forgotten.  Ro- 
man fear  disguised  itself  under  the  specious  title  of  moderation, 
and  the  Rhine  became  the  acknowledged  boundary  of  the  two 
nations  xmtil  the  fifth  century  of  our  era,  when  tlie  Germans  be- 
came the  assailants,  and  carved  with  their  coiKpiering  swords  the 
provinces  of  imperial  Rome  into  the  kingdoms  of  modern  Eu- 
rope. 

*  Flnnis  expresses  Us  rffect  most  pithily:  "  Ilac  clado  factum  est  ut  Im- 
perlum  quod  in  lltora  oceaul  noa  steterat,  In  rlpa  Rhenl  Uuminta  staret," 
Iv.,  12. 


116  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 


AuMiNros. 


I  have  said  above  tliat  the  great  Cheruscan  is  more  truly  one  of 
OTir  national  heroes  than  Caractacus  is.  It  may  be  added  that  an 
Englishman  is  entitled  to  claim  a  closer  degree  of  relationship 
with  Arminius  than  can  be  claimed  by  any  German  of  modern 
Germany.  The  proof  of  this  de^jends  on  the  proof  of  four  facts  : 
first,  that  the  Cheruscans  were  Old  Saxons,  or  Saxons  of  the  inte- 
rior of  Germany  ;  secondly,  that  the  Anglo-Saxons,  or  Saxons  of 
the  coast  of  Germany,  were  more  closely  akin  than  other  German 
tribes  were  to  the  Cheruscan  Saxons  :  thirdly,  that  the  Old  Saxons 
were  almost  exterminated  by  Charlemagne  ;  fourthly,  that  the 
Anglo-Saxons  are  our  immediate  ancestors.  The  last  of  these  may 
be  assumed  as  an  axiom  in  English  history.  The  proofs  of  the 
other  three  are  partly  philological  and  jjartly  historical.  I  have 
not  space  to  go  into  them  here,  but  they  will  be  found  in  the  early 
chapters  of  the  great  work  of  my  friend.  Dr.  Eobert  Gordon  La- 
tham, on  the  "English  Language,"  and  in  the  notes  to  his  forth- 
coming edition  of  the  "Germania  of  Tacitus."  It  may  be,  however, 
here  remarked,  that  the  present  Saxons  of  Germany  are  of  the 
High  Germanic  division  of  the  German  race,  whereas  both  the 
Anglo-Saxon  and  Old  Saxon  were  of  the  Low  Germanic. 

Being  thus  the  nearest  heirs  of  the  glory  of  Arminiiis,  we  may 
fairly  devote  more  attention  to  his  career  than,  in  such  a  work  as 
the  present,  could  be  allowed  to  any  individual  leader  ;  and  it  is 
interesting  to  trace  how  far  his  fame  survived  during  the  Middle 
Ages,  both  among  the  Germans  of  the  Continent  and  among  our- 
selves. 

It  seems  probable  that  the  jealousy  with  which  Mareboduus,  the 
king  of  the  Suevi  and  Marcomanni,  regarded  Arminius,  and  which 
ultimately  broke  out  into  open  hostilities  between  those  German 
tribes  and  the  Cherusci,  prevented  Arminius  from  leading  the  con- 
federate Germans  to  attack  Italy  after  his  first  victory.  Perhaps  ha 
may  have  had  the  rare  moderation  of  being  content  with  the  lib- 
eration of  his  country,  withoxit  seeking  to  retaliate  on  her  former 
oppressors.  When  Tiberias  marched  into  Germany  in  the  year 
10,  Arminius  was  too  cautioias  to  attack  him  on  ground  favorable 
to  the  legions,  and  Tiberias  was  too  skilful  to  entangle  his  troops 
in  the  difficult  parts  of  the  country.  His  march  and  countermarch 
were  as  unresisted  as  they  were  unproductive.  A  few  years  later, 
when  a  dangerous  revolt  of  the  Roman  legions  near  the  frontier 
caused  their  generals  to  find  them  active  eriiployment  by  leading 
them  into  the  interior  of  Germany,  we  find  Arminius  again  active 
in  his  country's  defense.  The  old  quarrel  between  him  and  his 
father-in-law,  Segestes,  had  broken  out  afresh.  Segestes  now 
called  in  the  aid  of  the  Roman  general,  Germanicus,  to  whom  he 
surrendered  himself ;  and  by  his  contrivance,  his  daughter  Thus- 


ARMINIUS.  117 

nelda,  the  wife  of  Arminius,  aiso  came  into  the  hands  of  the  Eo-' 
mans,  being  far  advanced  in  iDregnancy.  She  showed,  as  Tacitus 
relates,*  more  of  the  sinrit  of  her  husband  than  of  her  father,  a 
spirit  that  could  not  be  subdiied  into  tears  or  supplications.  She 
■w-as  sent  to  Eavenna,  and  there  gave  birth  to  a  son.  whose  life  we 
know  from  an  allusion  in  Tacitus,  to  have  been  eventful  and  un- 
happy ;  but  the  part  of  the  great  historian's  work  which  narrated 
his  fate  has  perished,  and  we  only  know  from  another  quarter 
that  the  son  of  Arminius  was,  at  the  age  of  four  years,  led  captive 
in  a  triumphal  pageant  along  the  streets  of  Home. 

The  high  spirit  of  Arminius  was  goadxl  almost  into  phrensybyi 
these  bereavements.  The  fate  of  his  wife,  thus  torn  from  him,  and . 
of  his  babe  doomed  to  bondage  even  before  its  birth,  inflamed  the 
eloquent  invectives  with  which  he  roused  his  countrymen  against 
the  home-traitors,  and  against  their  invaders,  who  thus  made  war 
upon  women  and  children.  Germanicus  had  marched  his  army 
to  the  place  where  Varus  had  perished,  and  had  there  paid  funeral 
honors  to  the  ghastly  relics  of  his  predecessor's  legions  that  he 
fovmd  heaped  around  him.f  Arminius  lured  him  to  advance  a 
little  further  into  the  country,  and  then  assailed  him,  and  fought  a 
battle,  which,  by  the  Eoman  accounts,  was  a  drawn  one.  The  effect 
of  it  was  to  make  Germanicus  resolve  on  retreating  to  the  Ehine. 
He  himself,  with  part  of  his  troops,  embarked  in  some  vessels  on 
the  Ems,  and  returned  by  that  river,  and  then  by  sea  ;  bixt  part  of 
his  forces  were  intrusted  to  a  Eoman  general  named  Cfscina,  to 
lead  them  back  by  land  to  the  Ehine.  Arminius  followed  this 
division  on  its  march,  and  fought  several  battles  with  it,  in  which 
he  inflicted  heavy  loss  on  the  Eomans,  captured  the  greater  part 
of  their  baggage,  and  would  have  destroyed  them  completely,  had 
not  his  skilful  system  of  operations  been  finally  thwarted  by  the 
haste  of  Inguiomerus,  a  confederate  German  chief,  who  insisted 
on  assaulting  the  Eomans  in  their  camp,  instead  of  waiting  till  they 
were  entangled  in  the  difiiculties  of  the  country,  and  assailing 
their  columns  on  the  march. 

In  the  following  year  the  Eomans  were  inactive,  but  in  the  year 
afterward  Germanicus  led  a  fresh  invasion.  He  placed  his  army 
on  shipboard,  and  sailed  to  the  mouth  of  the  Ems,  where  he  dis- 
embarked, and  marched  to  the  Weser,  where  he  encamped,  prob- 
ably in  the  neighborhood  of  Minden.  Arminius  had  collected  his 
army  on  the  other  side  of  the  river  ;  and  a  scene  occurred,  which 
is  powerfully  told  by  Tacitus,  and  which  is  the  subject  of  a  beau- 
tiful poem  by  Prajd.  It  has  been  already  mentioned  that  tlio 
brother  of  Arminius,  like  himself,  had  been  trained  up  while  young 

*  "  Ann.,"!  ,57. 

t  In  tlie  :Museum  of  Rhcnlsti  Antiquities  at  Bonn  tliere  Is  a  Roman  se- 
pulcliral  monument,  tlio  inscription  on  whicli  records  tliat  It  was  erected 
to  the  memory  ol  M.  Ccellus,  wlio  lell  "  Bello  Variano. 


118  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

to  serve  in  flio  Koman  armies  ;  biit,  unlike  Arminius,  he  not  only 
refiised  to  quit  the  Konian  service  for  that  of  his  country,  but 
fought  against  his  country  with  the  legions  of  Germanicus.  He 
had  assumed  the  Eoman  name  of  Flavius,  and  had  gained  consid- 
erable distinction  in  the  Eoman  service,  in  which  he  had  lost  an 
eye  from  a  wound  in  battle.  When  the  Eoman  outposts  ap- 
proached the  Eiver  Weser,  Arminius  called  out  to  them  from  the 
opposite  bank,  and  expressed  a  wish  to  see  his  brother.  Flavius 
stepped  forward,  and  Arminius  ordered  his  own  followers  to 
retire,  and  requested  that  the  archers  should  be  removed  from  the 
Eoman  bank  of  the  river.  This  was  done;  and  the  brothers,  who 
apparently  had  not  seen  each  other  for  some  years,  began  a  con- 
versation from  the  opposite  side  of  the  stream,  in  which  Arminius 
questioned  his  brother  respecting  the  loss  of  his  eye,  and  what 
battle  it  had  been  lost  in,  and  what  reward  he  had  received  for 
his  wound.  Flavius  told  him  how  the  eye  was  lost,  and  men- 
tioned the  increased  pay  that  he  had  on  account  of  its  loss,  and 
showed  the  collar  and  other  military  decorations  that  had  been 
given  him.  Arminius  mocked  at  these  as  badges  of  slavery  ;  and 
then  each  began  to  try  to  win  the  other  over.  Flavius  boasting 
the  power  of  Eome,  and  her  generosity  to  the  submissive ;  Ar- 
minius appealing  to  him  in  the  name  of  their  country's  gods,  of 
the  mother  that  had  borne  them,  and  by  the  holy  names  of  father- 
land and  freedom,  not  to  prefer  being  the  betrayer  to  being  the 
champion  of  his  coiintry.  They  soon  proceeded  to  mutual  taiints 
and  menaces,  and  Flavius  called  aloud  for  his  horse  and  his  arms, 
that  he  might  dash  across  tho  river  and  attack  his  brother  ;  nor 
would  he  have  been  checked  from  doing  so,  had  not  the  Eoman 
general  Stertinius  run  up  to  him  and  forcibly  detained  him.  Ar- 
minius stood  on  the  other  uank  threatening  the  renegade,  and 
defying  him  to  battle. 

I  shall  not  be  thought  to  need  apology  for  quoting  here  the 
stanzas  in  which  ProBd  has  described  this  scene — a  scene  among 
the  most  affecting,  as  well  as  the  most  striking,  that  history  sup- 
plies. It  makes  us  reflect  on  the  desolate  position  of  Arminius, 
with  his  wife  and  child  captives  in  the  enemy's  hands,  and  with 
his  brother  a  renegade  in  arms  against  him.  The  great  liberator 
of  our  German  race  was  there,  with  every  source  of  human  happi- 
I  ness  denied  him  except  the  consciousness  of  doing  his  duty  to  hia 
country. 

Back,  back !  lie  fears  not  foaming  flood 

Who  fears  not  steel-clad  line  : 
No  warrior  tliou  of  Gei-man  blood, 

No  brother  thou  of  mine. 
Go,  earn  Home's  chain  to  load  thy  neck, 

Her  gems  to  deck  thy  hilt ; 
And  blazon  honor's  hapless  wreck 

With  all  the  gauds  of  gilt. 


ABMINIUS  119 

But  wouldst  thou  have  ?)ie share  the  prey? 

By  all  that  I  have  clone, 
The  Varlan  bones  that  day  by  day 

Lie  whitening  In  the  sun, 
The  legion's  trampled  panoply, 

The  eagle's  shatter'd  wing— 
I  would  not  be  tor  earth  or  sky 

So  scorn'd  and  mean  a  thing. 

Ho,  call  me  here  the  wizard,  boy, 

OI"  dark  and  subtle  skill 
To  agonize  but  not  destroy, 

To  torture,  not  to  kill. 
When  swords  are  out,  and  shriek  and  shout 

Leave  little  room  for  prayer, 
Ko  fetter  on  man's  arm  or  heart 

llangs  half  so  heavy  there. 

I  curse  hira  by  the  gifts  the  land 

Uath  won  from  him  and  Kome, 
The  riving  axe,  the  wasting  brand 

Kent  forest,  blazing  home. 
I  curse  hira  by  our  country's  gods, 

The  terrible,  the  dark, 
The  breakers  of  the  Roman  rods,  , 

The  smiters  of  the  bark. 

Oh,  misery  that  such  a  ban 

On  such  a  brow  should  be ! 
Why  comes  he  not  in  battle's  van 

His  country's  chief  to  be  ? 
To  stand  a  comrade  by  my  side. 

The  sharer  of  my  fame, 
And  worthy  of  a  brother's  pride 

And  of  a  brother's  name  ? 

But  It  Is  past !  where  heroes  press 

And  cowards  bend  the  knee, 
Armlnius  is  not  brotherless, 

His  brethren  are  the  free. 
They  come  around :  one  hour,  and  light 

Will  fade  from  tuit  and  tide. 
Then  onward,  onward  to  the  tight, 

With  darkness  for  our  guide. 

To-night,  to-night,  when  we  shall  meet 

In  combat  face  to  face, 
Then  only  would  Armlnius  greet 

The  renegades  embrace. 
The  canker  of  Kome's  guilt  shall  be 

Upon  his  dying  name  ; 
And  as  hit  lived  in  slavery, 

BO  shall  he  fall  in  shame. 

r>;i  the  day  after  the  Komans  had  reached  the  Weser,  Gemani' 
eus  ^*d  his  army  across  that  river,  and  a  partial  encounter  took 
place,  in  -which  Armlnius  was  successful.  But  on  the  succeeding 
day  a  general  action  waa  fought,  in  which  Armiuius  was  severely 


120  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

■wonndcd,  nml  tlio  Gorman  infantry  rontecl  with  heavy  loss.  The 
Lorst'uun  of  tho  two  armies  encoimtered,  without  either  party 
gaining  the  advantage.  But  the  Homan  army  remained  master  of 
the  ground,  and  claimed  a  complete  victory.  Germauicus  trected 
a  trophy  in  the  field,  with  a  vaunting  inscription,  that  the  nations 
between  the  ilhine  and  the  Elbe  had  been  thoroughly  conquered 
by  his  army.  But  that  army  speedily  made  a  final  retreat  to  the 
left  bank  of  the  Ehine;  nor  was  the  effect  of  their  campaign  more 
durable  than  their  trophy.  The  sarcasm  with  which  Tacitus 
speaks  of  certain  other  triumphs  of  Eoman  generals  over  Germans 
may  ap]5ly  to  the  pagtant  which  Germanicus  celebrated  on  his  re- 
tiirn  to  Homo  from  his  command  of  the  lloman  army  of  the  Rhine. 
The  Germans  were  "  (riwniiuds  ik-Uus  quam  victi." 

After  the  Komans  had  abandoned  their  attempts  on  Germany, 
we  find  Arminius  engaged  in  hostilities  with  Maroboduus,  the 
king  of  the  Suevi  and  ]\hircomanni,  Avho  was  endeavoring  to  bring 
the  other  German  tribes  into  a  state  of  dependency  on  him,  Ar- 
minius was  at  the  head  of  the  Geimans  M'ho  took  up  arms  against 
this  home  invader  of  their  liberties.  After  some  minor  engage- 
ments, a  pitched  battle  was  fought  between  the  two  confederacies, 
A.  D.  19,  in  which  the  loss  on  each  side  was  equal,  but  Maroboduus 
confessed  the  ascendency  of  his  antagonist  by  avoiding  a  renewal 
of  the  engagement,  and  by  imploring  the  intervention  of  the  lio- 
mans  in  his  defense.  The  younger  Driisus  then  commanded  the 
Eoman  legions  in  the  province  of  Illyricum,  and  by  his  mediation 
a  peace  was  concluded  between  Arminius  and  Maroboduus,  bj' 
the  terms  of  which  it  is  evident  that  the  latter  must  have  renounced 
his  ambitious  schemes  against  the  freedom  oi  the  other  German 
tribes . 

Arminius  did  not  long  survive  this  second  war  of  independence, 
which  he  successfully  waged  for  his  country.  He  was  assassinated 
in  the  thirty-seventh  year  of  his  age  by  some  of  his  own  kinsmen, 
who  conspired  against  him.  Tacitus  says  that  this  happened 
while  he  was  engaged  in  a  civil  war,  which  had  been  caused  by  his 
attempts  to  make  himself  king  over  his  countrymen.  It  is  far  more 
probable  (as  one  of  the  best  biographers*  has  observed)  that  Taci- 
tus misunderstood  an  attempt  of  Arminius  to  extend  hisinfiuenca 
as  elective  war-chieltain  of  the  Cherusci,  and  other  tribes,  for  an 
attempt  to  obtain  the  royal  dignity.  When  we  remember  that  his 
father-in-law  and  his  brother  were  renegades,  we  can  well  under- 
stand that  a  party  among  his  kinsmen  may  have  been  bitterly  hos- 
tile to  him,  and  have  opposed  his  authority  with  the  tribe  by  open 
violence,  and,  when  that  seemed  ineffectual,  by  secret  assassmar- 
tion.  • 

Arminius  left  a  name  which  the  historians  of  the  nation  against 

*  Dr.  Plate,  In  "  Blograptilcal  Dictionary,"  commenced  by  the  Society 
lor  the  Diffusion  of  Useful  Knowledge. 


ARMmiUS.  121 

■wliicli  he  combated  sn  1  ng  and  so  gloriously  have  delighted  to 
honor.  It  is  from  the  must  indisjjutable  source,  from  the  lips  of 
enemies  that  we  know  his  exploits.*  His  count]*j-men  made  his- 
tory, but  did  not  write  it.  But  his  memory  lived  among  them  in 
the  lays  of  their  bards,  who  recorded 

The  deeds  he  did,  the  fields  ho  won, 
The  fi'eedom  he  restored. 

Tacitus,  writing  years  after  the  death  of  Arminius,  says  of  him, 
"  Canitur  adhue  barbaras  apud  ^gentes."  As  time  passed  on,  the 
gratitude  of  ancient  Germany  to  her  great  deliverer  grew  into  ado- 
ration, and  divine  honors  were  paid  for  centuries  to  Arminius  by 
every  tribe  of  the  Low  Germanic  division  of  the  Teutonic  races. 
The  Irmin-sul,  or  the  column  of  Herman,  near  Eresbergh,  the 
mordern  Stadtbcrg,  was  the  chosen  object  of  worship  to  the  de- 
scendants of  the  Cherusci,  the  old  Saxons,  and  in  defense  of 
which  they  fought  most  desperately  against  Charlemagne  and  his 
Christianized  Franks.  "Irmin,  in  the  cloiidy  Olympus  of  Teu- 
tonic belief,  apisears  as  a  king  and  a  warrior  ;  and  the  pillar,  the 
'Irmin-sul,' bearing  the  statue,  and  considered  as  the  symbol  of 
the  deity,  was  the  Palladium  of  the  Saxon  nation  until  the  temple 
of  Eresbergh  was  destroyed  by  Charlemagne,  and  the  column  itself 
transferred  to  the  monastery  of  Corbey,  where  perhaps  a  portion 
of  the  ri;de  rock  idol  yet  remains,  covered  by  the  ornaments  of 
the  Gothic  era."t  Traces  of  the  worship  of  Arminius  are  to  be 
found  among  our  Anglo-Saxon  ancestors,  after  their  settlement 
in  this  island.  One  of  the  four  great  highways  was  held  to  be 
under  the  protection  of  the  deity,  and  was  called  the  "Irmin 
street."  The  name  Arminius  is,  of  course,  the  mere  Latinized 
form  of  "Herman,"  the  name  by  which  the  hero  and  the  deity 
were  known  by  every  man  of  Low  German  blood  on  either  side  of 
the  German  Sea.  It  means,  etymologically,  the  "War-man,"  the 
"  man  of  hosts."  No  other  explanation  of  the  worship  of  the 
"Irmin-sul,"  and  of  the  name  of  the  "Irmin  street,"  is  so  satisfac- 
tory as  that  which  connects  them  with  the  deified  Arminius.  We 
know  for  certain  of  the  existence  of  other  columns  of  an  analogous 
character.  Thus  there  was  the  Kolandseule  in  North  Germany ,- 
there  was  a  Thor-seule  in  Sweden,  and  (what  is  more  important; 
there  was  an  Athelstan-seule  in  Saxon  England. |  I 

There  is  at  the  present  moment  a  song  respecting  the  Irmin-sul 
current  in  the  bishopric  of  Minden,  one  version  of  which  might 
Beem  only  to  refer  to  Charlemagne  having  pulled  down  the  Irmin- 
Bul. 

*  See  Tacitus,  "Ann.,"  Ub.  11.,  sec.  ss  ;  Vellelus Paterculus,  lib.  1..,  sec. 
118. 

t  PalKTUve  on  the  "  Knylish  Commonwealth,"  vol.  11.,  p.  140. 

t  Set!  Lappcnbuig's  "  .Miu^Uj-Saxoiis,"  p.  Sir..  Tor  nearly  all  the  phllo- 
lotrlcal  and  ethnographical  lacld  respecting  Arminius,  I  am  indebted  to  my 
Diend,  Dr.  K.  U.  1-atham. 


122  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

ITerman,  sla  dcrmen, 
Sla  piiwn,  sla  trummen, 
Drt  Kaiser  -hIU  kumiiien. 
•        'Met  liaiiicr  uu  staii;4rn, 
Will  llcrmau  upiiaiiycu. 

Bnt  there  is  another  version,  which  probably  is  the  oldest,  and 
■which  clearly  refers  to  the  great  Arminius. 

Fn  Ilerman  slau^  flermen, 
•  Slaug  pipen,  slaug  trummen  ; 
De  tursten  slmi  kammeu, 
Met  all  eren-mannen 
Hebt  y^arus  upliangen.* 

About  ten  centuries  and  a  half  after  the  demolition  of  the  Irmin- 
8ul,  and  nearly  eighteen  after  the  death  of  Arminius,  the  modern 
Germans  conceived  the  idea  of  rendering  tardy  homage  to  their 
great  hero  ;  and  accordingly,  some  eight  or  ten  years  ago,  a  general 
subscription  was  organized  in  Germany  for  the  purpose  of  erecting 
on  the  Osning — a  conical  mountain,  which  forms  the  highest  sum- 
mit of  the  Teutoberger  Wald,  and  is  eighteen  hundred  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  sea— a  colossal  bronze  statue  of  Arminius.  The 
statue  was  designed  by  Bandal.  The  hero  was  to  stand  uplifting 
a  sword  in  his  right  hand,  and  looking  toward  the  Ehine.  The 
height  of  the  statue  was  to  be  eighty  feet  from  the  base  to  the  point 
of  the  Bword,  and  was  to  stand  on  a  circular  Gothic  temple  ninety 
feet  high,  and  supported  by  oak  trees  as  columns.  The  mountain, 
where  it  was  to  be  erected,  is  wild  and  stern,  and  overlooks  the 
scene  of  the  battle.  It  was  calculated  that  the  statute  would  be 
clearly  visible  at  a  distance  of  sixty  miles.  The  temple  is 
nearly  finished,  and  the  statue  itself  has  been  cast  at  the  copper 
works  at  Lemgo.  But  there,  through  want  of  funds  to  set  it 
xip,  it  has  lain  for  some  years,  in  disjointed  fragments,  exposed 
to  the  mutilating  homage  of  relic-seeking  travelers.  The  idea 
of  honoring  a  hero,  who  belongs  to  all  Germany,  is  not  one 
which  the  present  rulers  of  that  divided  country  have  any  wish  to 
encourage  ;  and  the  statue  may  long  continue  to  lie  there,  and  pre- 
sent too  true  a  type  of  the  condition  of  Germany  herself,  f 

Surely  this  is  an  occasion  in  which  Englishmen  might  well 
prove,  by  acts  as  well  as  words,  that  we  also  rank  Arminius  among 
our  heroes. 

I  have  quoted  the  noble  stanzas  of  one  of  our  modern  English 
poets  on  Arminius,  and  I  will  conclude  this  memoir  with  one  of 
the  odes  of  the  great  poet  of  modern  Germany,  Klopstock,  on  the 
victory  to  which  we  owe  our  freedom,  and  Arminius  mainly  owes 
his  fame.      Klopstock  calls  it  the  "Battle  of  Winfeld."     The  epi- 

*  See  Grimm,  "  Deutsche  Mythologle,"  329. 

t  On  the  subject  of  this  status,  I  must  repeat  an  acknowledgment  of  my 
Obligations  to  my  friend,  Mr.  Henry  Pearson. 


ARMimUS.  123 

thet  of  "  sister  of  Canna3 "  shows  tliat  Klopstook  followed  some 
chronologors,  according  to  whom  Varus  was  defeated  on  the  anni- 
versary of  the  day  on  which  Paulus  and  Yarro  were  defeated  by 
Hannibal. 

,<JO>JQ  OF   TEIUMPH   AFTER   THE   VICTOKT  OF  HEEEMAN,    THE    DEUYEEKR 
OF  GEKMANY  FEOM  THE  ROMANS. 

FROM  KLOPSTOCk'S  "  HERMANN   UND   DIE  FURSTEN.  ' 

Supposed  to  he  sung  by  a  chorus  of  Bards. 

A  CHORUS. 

sister  Of  CannoB !  *    Winfeld's  t  figlit ! 
We  saw  tliee  ^v•itll  tliy  streaming',  bloody  hair. 
With  fierj-  eye.  bnglit  with  the  world's  despair. 
Sweep  by  Walhalla's  bards  from  out  our  sight. 

Herrman  outspake :  "  :Now  Victory  or  Death !  " 
The  Komans  ..."  Victory  !  " 
And  onward  rushed  their  eagles  with  the  cry. 
So  ended  the  yij-A<  day. 

"  Victory  or  Death !  "  began 
Then,  first,  the  Koman  chief ;  and  Herrman  spake 
Kot,  but  home-struck :  the  eaglesjfluttered— brake 
So  sped  the  second  day. 

TWO  CHORUSES. 

And  the  third  came  .  .  .  the  cry  was  "  Flight  or  Death ! 
Flight  left  they  not  for  them  who'd  make  them  slaves- 
Wen  who  stab  children !  liight  for  them !  .  .  .  no !  graves  t 
.<  >xwas  their  last  day." 

TWO  BARD3. 

Yet  spared  they  messengers :  they  came  to  Kome— 
How  drooped  the  plume— the  lance  was  left  to  trail 
Down  in  the  dust  behind— their  cheek  was  pale — 
So  came  the  messengers  to  Home. 

High  In  his  hall  the  imperator  sat — 

Gctavianus  Caesar  Aurjustus  sat. 

'I'hey  filled  up  wlne-cups,  wine-cups  filled  they  up 

For  him  the  hlghtest^wlne-cups  filled  they  up 

For  him  the  highest,  Jove  of  all  theh  state. 

The  flutes  of  Lydia  hushed  before  their  voice,; 
Before  the  messengers— the  "  Highest"  spnmg— 
The  godt  against  the  marble  pillars,  wrung 

*  The  battle  of  Cannae,  b.c,  216— Hannibal's  victory  over  the  Romans. 

t  Wlnfeld— the  probable  site  of  the  "//(■rroia/i.sr/i/ndi,-"  see  «ui)ro.    ''-  v^J 

t  Augustus  was  worshipped  as  a  deity  In  his  lifetime. 


124  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

By  the  droarl  words,  striking  his  brow,  and  thi-loe 
Cried  he  aloud  lu  anguish, ' •  Varus !    Varus ! 
Give  back  my  legions,  Varus!" 

And  now  the  world-wide  conquerors  shrunk  and  feared 

For  fatherland  and  home, 

The  lance  to  raise ;  and  'mongst  those  false  to  Rome 

The  death-lot  rolled,*  and  still  they  shrunk  and  feared- 

"  For  she  her  face  hath  turned 

The  victor  goddess  "  cried  those  cowards-(for  aye 

Be  It!)— "from  Home  and  Romans,  and  her  day 

Is  done"— and  still  he  mourned. 

And  cried  aloud  In  angulsli,  "  Varus!  VanisI 

Give  back  my  legions,  Varus !  "t 


Synopsis   of  Events  between  Akminitts's  Victobt  over  Varus 
AND  THE  Battle  of   Chalons. 

A.  D.  43.  The  Romans  commence  the  conquest  of  Britain,  Clau- 
dius being  then  Emperor  of  Rome.  The  popuhition  of  this  island 
was  then  Celtic.  In  about  forty  years  all  the  tribes  south  of  the 
Clyde  were  subdued,  and  their  land  made  a  Roman  province. 

58-60.  Successful  campaigns  of  the  Roman  general  Corbule 
against  the  Parthians. 

64.     First  persecutions  of  the  Christians  at  Rome  under  Nero. 

68-70.  Civil  wars  in  the  Roman  world.  The  Emperors  Nero, 
Galba,  Otho,  and  Vitellius  cut  olT  successively  by  violent  deaths! 
Vespasian  becomes  Emj)eror. 

70.  Jerusalem  destroyed  by  the  Romans  under  Titus. 

83.  Futile  attack  of  Domitian  on  the  Germans. 

86.    Beginning  of  the  wars  between  the  Romans  and  the  Dacians. 

98-117,  Trajan  emperor  of  Rome.  Under  him  the  empire  ac- 
quires its  greatest  territorial  extent  by  his  conquests  in  Dacia  and 
in  the  East.  His  successor,  Hadrian,  abandons  the  provinces  be- 
yond the  Euphrates  which  Trajan  had  conquered. 

138-180.  Eraof  the  Antonines. 

167-176.  A  long  and  desperate  war  between  Rome  and  a  great 
confederacy  of  the  German  nations.  Marcus  Antoninus  at  last 
succeeds  in  rej^elling  them. 

192-197.  Civil  wars  throughout  the  Roman  world.  Severus  be- 
comes emperor.  He  relaxes  the  discipline  of  the  soldiers.  After 
his  death  in  211,  the  series  of  military  insurrections,  civil  wars, 
and  murders  of  emperors  recommences. 

226.  Artaxerxes  (Ardisheer)  overthrows  the  Parthian  and  restores 
the  Persian  kingdom  in  Asia.  He  attacks  the  Roman  possessions 
in  the  East. 

*  See  supra,  p.  1,=!9. 

t  I  have  taken  this  translation  from  an  anonymous  writer  In  "Frazer," 
two  yeai-s  ago. 


BATTLE  OF  CHALONS.  125 

2o0.  The  Goths  invade  the  Koman  provinces.  The  Emperor 
Decius  is  defeated  and  slain  by  them. 

253-260.  The  Franks  and  Alemanni  invade  Gaul,  Spain,  and 
Africa.  The  Goths  attack  Asia  Minor  and  Greece.  The  Persians 
conquer  Armenia.  Their  king,  Sapor,  defeats  the  Eoman  Emperor 
Valerian,  and  takes  him  prisoner.  General  distress  of  the  Koman 
empire. 

268-283.  The  Emperors  Claudius,  Aurelian,  Tacitus,  Probus, 
and  Carus  defeat  the  various  enemies  of  Eome,  and  restore  order 
in  the  Eoman  state. 

285.  Diocletian  divides  and  reorganizes  the  Eoman  empire. 
After  his  abdication  in  305  a  fresh  series  of  civil  wars  and  confus- 
ion ensues.  Constantine,  the  first  Christian  emperor,  reunites  the 
em^Dire  in  324. 

330.  Constantine  makes  Constantinople  the  seat  of  empire  instead 
of  Kome. 

3G3.  The  Emperor  Julian  is  killed  in  action  against  the  Persians. 

36i-375.  The  empire  is  again  divided,  Yalentinian  being  Em- 
peror of  the  West,  and  Valens  of  the  East.  Yalentinian  repulses 
the  Alemanni,  and  other  German  invaders  from  Gaul.  Splendor 
of  the  Gothic  kingdom  under  Hermanric,  north  of  the  Danube. 

375-395.  The  Huns  attack  the  Goths,  who  implore  the  protection 
of  the  Eoman  emperor  of  the  East.  The  Goths  are  allowed  to  pass 
the  Daniibe,  and  to  settle  in  the  Eoman  provinces.  A  war  soon 
breaks  out  between  them  and  the  Eomans,  and  the  Emperor  Valens 
and  his  army  are  destroyed  by  them.  They  ravage  the  Eoman 
territories.  The  Emperor  Theodosiiis  reduces  them  to  submission. 
They  retain  settlements  in  Thrace  and  Asia  Minor. 

395.  Final  division  of  the  Eoman  empire  between  Arcadius  and 
Honorius,  the  two  sons  of  Theodosius.  The  Goths  revolt,  and  under 
Alaric  attack  various  parts  of  both  the  Eoman  emijires. 

410.  Alaric  takes  the  city  of  Eome. 

412.  The  Goths  march  into  Gaul,  and  in  414  into  Spain,  which 
had  been  invaded  by  hosts  of  Vandals,  Siievi,  Alani,  and  other 
Germanic  nations.  Britain  is  formally  abandoned  by  the  Eoman 
empire  of  the  West. 

428.  Gensoric,  king  of  the  Vandals,  conquers  the  Roman  province 
of  North  Africa. 

4rJLl.  The  Huns  attack  the  Eastern  empire. 


CHAPTEE  \1. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  CHALONS,  A.  D.  451. 

The  (Hscomflture  of  the  mighty  attempt  of  Attlla  to  found  a  new  antl- 
Chrlbtiun  dynasty  upon  the  wreck  ol  the  temporal  power  of  Kome,  at  the 


126  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

end  of  the  term  of  twelTe  hiinclrert  yoars  to  which  Its  duration  had  been 
limited  by  the  forebodings  of  tlie  lieatlien.— Hekbekt.; 

_  A  BEOAT)  expanse  of  plains,  the  Campi  Catalaiinici  of  the  an- 
cients, spreads  far  and  wide  aroimd  the  city  of  Chalons,  in  the 
northeast  of  France.  The  long  rows  of  poplars,  through  which  the 
River  Marne  winds  its  way,  and  a  few  thinly-scattered  villages,  are 
almost  the  only  objects  that  vary  the  monotonous  aspect  of  the 
greater  part  of  this  region.  But  about  five  miles  from  Chalons, 
near  the  little  hamlets  of  Chape  and  Cuperly,  the  grovmd  is  in- 
dented and  heaped  up  in  ranges  of  grassy  mounds  and  trenches, 
which  attest  the  work  of  man's  hands  in  ages  past,  and  which,  to 
the  practiced  eye,  demonstrate  that  this  quiet  spot  has  once  been 
the  fortified  position  of  a  huge  military  host. 

Local  tradition  gives  to  these  ancient  earth-works  the  name  of 
Attila's  Camp.  Nor  is  there  any  reason  to  question  the  correctness 
of  the  title,  or  to  doubt  that  behind  these  very  ramparts  it  was 
that  liOO  j-ears  ago  the  most  powerful  heathen  king  that  ever  ruled 
in  Eurojie  mustered  the  remnants  of  his  vast  army,  which  had 
striven  on  these  plains  against  the  Christian  soldiery  of  Thoulouse 
and  Eome.  Here  it  was  that  Attila  prepared  to  resist  to  the  death 
his  victors  in  the  field  ;  and  here  he  heaped  up  the  treasures  of 
his  camp  into  one  vast  pile,  which  was  to  be  his  funeral  pyre 
should  his  camj:)  be  stormed.  It  was  here  that  the  Gothic  and 
lialian  forces  watched,  but  dared  not  assail  their  enemy  in  his 
des^Jair,  after  that  great  and  terrible  day  of  battle  when 

"  The  sound 
Of  conflict  was  cerpast,  the  shout  of  all 
Whom  earth  could  send  from  her  remotest  bounds. 
Heathen  or  faithful;  from  thy  hundred  mouths. 
That  feed  the  Caspian  with  Klphean  snows. 
Huge  Volga!  from  famed  Hypanis,  which  once 
Cradled.tlie  Hun ;  from  all  the  countless  realms 
Between  Imaus  and  that  utmost  strand 
Where  columns  of  Herculean  rnek  confront 
The  blown  Atlantic ;  Koman,  Goth,  and  Hun, 
And  Scythian  strength  of  chivalry,  that  tread 
The  cold  Codanian  shore,  or  what  far  lands 
Inhospitable  drink  Cimmerian  floods, 
Pranks,  Saxons,  Suevic,  and  Sarmatlan  chiefs. 
And  who  from  green  Arraorlca  or  Spain 
Flocked  to  the  work  of  death."* 

\ 
The  victory  which  the  Eoman  general,  Aetius,  with  his  Gothio 
allies,  had  then  gained  over  the  Huns,  was  the  last  victory  of  im- 
perial Rome.  But  among  the  long  Fasti  of  her  triumphs,  few  can 
be  found  that  for  their  imjiortanceand  ultimate  benefit  to  mankind, 
are  comparable  with  this  expiring  eifort  of  her  arms.  It  did  not, 
indeed, open  to  her  any  new  career  of  conquest — it  did  not  consoli- 

*  Herbert'3  "Attila,"  book  1.,  line  13. 


BATTLE  OF  CHALONS.  127 

date  the  relics  of  her  power — it  did  not  turn  the  rapid  ebb  of  her 
fortunes.  The  mission  of  imperial  Home  was,  in  truth,  already 
accomplished.  She  had  received  and  transmitted  through  her  once 
ample  dominion  the  civilization  of  Greece,  She  had  broken  up 
the  barriers  of  narrow  nationalities  among  the  varioiis  states  and 
tribes  that  dwelt  around  the  coasts  of  the  Mediterrannean.  She  had 
fused  these  and  many  other  races  into  one  organized  empire,  bound 
together  by  a  community  of  laws,  of  government,  and  institutions. 
Under  the  shelter  of  her  full  power  the  True  Faith  had  arisen  in 
the  earth,  and  during  the  years  of  her  decline  it  had  been  nour- 
ished to  maturity,  it  had  overspread  all  the  provinces  that  ever 
obeyed  her  sway.*  For  no  beneficial  j^urpose  to  mankind  could 
the  dominion  of  the  seven-hilled  city  have  been  restored  or- pro- 
longed. But  it  was  all-important  to  mankind  what  nations  should 
divide  among  them  Eome"s  rich  inheritance  of  empire.  Whether, 
the  Germanic  and  Gothic  warriors  shoukl  form  states  and  king- 
doms out  of  the  fragments  of  her  dominions,  and  become  the  free 
members  of  the  commonwealth  of  Chi-istian  Euroj^e  ;  or  whether 
pagan  savages  from  the  wilds  of  Central  Asia,  should  crush  the 
relics  of  classic  civilization  and  the  early  institutions  of  the 
Christianized  Germans  in  one  hopeless  chaos  of  bar  baric,  con- 
quest. The  Christian  Visigoths  of  King  Theodoric  fought  and 
triumphed  at  Chalons  side  by  side  with  the  legions  of  Aetius. 
Their  joint  victory  over  the  Hunnish  host  not  only  rescued  for  a 
time  from  destruction  the  old  age  of  Rome,  but  preserved  for  cen- 
turies of  power  and  glory  the  Germanic  element  in  the  civilization 
of  modern  Europe. 

In  order  to  estimate  the  full  importance  to  mankind  of  the  battle 
of  Chalons,  we  must  keep  steadily  in  mind  who  and  what  the  Ger- 
mans were,  and  the  important  distinctions  between  them  and  the 
numerous  other  races  that  assailed  the  Roman  empire  ;  and  it  is  to 
be  understood  that  the  Gothic  and  Scandinavian  nations  are  in- 
cluded in  the  German  race.  Now,  "in  two  remarkable  traits,  the 
Germans  differed  from  the  Sarmatic  as  well  as  from  the  Slavic  na- 
tions, and,  indeed,  from  all  those  other  races  to  whom  the  Greeks 
and  Romans  gave  the  designation  of  barbarians.  I  allude  to  their 
personal  freedom  and  regard  for  the  rights  of  men  ;  secondly,  to  the 
respect  i^aid  by  them  to  the  female  sex,  and  the  chastity  for  which 
the  latter  were  celebrated  among  the  people  of  the  North.  These 
were  the  foundations  of  that  i^robity  of  character,  self-respect,  and 
purity  of  manners  which  may  be  traced  among  the  Germans  and 
Gotlis  even  during  pagan  times,  and  which,  when  their  sentiments 
were  enlightened  by  Christianity,  brought  out  those  splendid 
traits  of  character  which  distinguish  the  age  of  chivalry  and  ro- 
mance, "f     What  the  intermixture  of  the  German  stock  with  the 

*  See  the  Introduction  to  Ranke'.s  "  History  of  the  Popes." 
t  See  Prlcliard's  "  Itesearclics  Into  the  Thy  steal  History  of  Man,"  vol.  111., 
p.  423. 


128  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

classic,  at  tho  foil  of  the  Western  empire,  has  done  for  mankind, 
uiay  be  best  feli  by  watching,  with  Arnold,  over  how  large  a  por- 
tion of  the  earth  the  influence  of  the  German  element  is  now  ex- 
tended. 

"  It  affects,  more  or  less,  the  whole  west  of  Europe,  from  the 
head  of  the  Gulf  of  Bothnia  to  the  most  southern  j^romontory  of 
Sicily,  from  the  Oder  and  tbe  Adriatic  to  the  Hebrides  and  to  Lis- 
bon. It  is  true  that  the  language  spoken  over  a  large  portion  of 
this  space  is  not  jaredominantly  German  ;  but  even  in  Franco,  and 
Italy,  and  Spain,  the  influence  of  the  Franks,  Burgundians,  Visi- 
goths, Ostrogoths,  and  Lombards,  while  it  has  colored  even  the 
language,  has  in  blood  and  institutions  left  its  mark  legibly  and 
indelibly.  Germany,  the  Low  countries,  Switzerland  for  the  most 
part,  Denmark,  Norway,  and  Sweden;  and  our  own  islands,  are  all 
in  language,  in  blood,  and  in  institiitious,  German  most  decidely. 
But  all  South  America  is  peopled  with  Spaniards  and  Portuguese; 
all  North  America,  and  all  Australia,  with  Englishmen.  I  say 
nothing  of  the  prospects  and  influence  of  the  German  race  in 
Africa  and  in  India:  it  is  enough  to  say  that  half  of  Europe,  and  all 
America  and  Australia,  are  German,  more  or  less  completely,  in 
race,  in  language,  or  in  institutions,  or  in  all."* 

By  the  middle  of  the  fifth  century,  Germanic  nations  had  settled 
themselves  in  many  of  the  fairest  regions  of  the  Roman  empire, 
had  imisosed  their  yoke  on  the  provincials,  and  had  undergone, 
to  a  considerable  extent,  that  moral  conquest  which  the  arts  and 
refinements  of  the  vanquished  in  arms  have  so  often  achieved  over 
the  rough  victor.  The  Visigoths  held  the  north  of  Sj)ain,  and 
Gaul  south  of  the  Loire.  Franks,  Alemanni,  Alans,  ai^d  Burgun- 
dians had  established  themselves  in  other  Gallic  i^rovinces,  and  the 
Suevi  were  masters  of  a  large  southern  portion  of  the  Sjjanish 
peninsiila.  A  king  of  the  Vandals  reigned  in  North  Africa  :  and 
the  Ostrogoths  had  firmly  planted  themselves  in  the  provinces 
north  of  Italy.  Of  these  powers  and  principalities,  that  of  the 
Visigoths,  under  their  king  Theodoric,  son  of  Alaric,  was  by  far 
the  first  in  power  and  in  civilization. 

The  pressure  of  the  Huns  upon  Europe  had  first  been  felt  in  the 
fourth  century  of  our  era.  They  had  long  been  formidable  to  the 
Chinese  empire,  but  the  ascendency  in  arms  which  another 
nomadic  tribe  of  Central  Asia,  the  Sienpi,  gained  over  them,  drove 
the  Huns  from  their  Chinese  conquests  westward  ;  and  this  move- 
ment once  being  communicated  to  tho  whole  chain  of  barbaric 
nations  that  dwelt  northward  of  the  Black  Sea  and  the  Eoman 
empire,  tribe  after  tribe  of  savage  warriors  broke  in  upon  the  bar- 
riers of  civilized  Europe,  "Velut  unda  supervenit  undam."  The 
Huns  crossed  the  Tanais  into  Europe  in  375  and  rapidly  reduced 
to  subjection  the  Alans,   the   Ostrogoths,   and  other  tribes  that 

*  Arnold's  "  Lectures  on  Modern  History,"  p.  35. 


BATTLE  OF  CIIALOXS.  129 

were  then  dwelling  along  the  course  of  the  Danube.  The  armies 
of  the  Ilonian  emperor  that  tried  to  check  their  progress  were  ciit 
to  i^ieces  by  them,  and  Pannonia  and  other  pro^inces  south  of  the 
Danube  were  speedily  occuxiied  by  the  victorious  cavalry  of  these 
new  invaders.  Not  merely  the  degenerate  Ilomans,  but  the  bold 
and  hardy  warriors  of  Germany  and  Scandinavia,  were  appalled  at 
the  number,  the  ferocity,  the  ghastly  appearance  and  the  lightning- 
like rapidity  of  the  Huns.  Strange  and  loathsome  legends  were 
coined  and  credited,  which  attributed  their  origin  to  the  union  of 

"  Secret,  black,  and  midniglit  hags," 

with  the  evil  spirits  of  the  wilderness. 

Tribe  after  tribe,  and  city  after  city,  fell  before  them.  Then 
came  a  pause  in  their  career  of  conquest  in  southwestern  Eurojie, 
caused  probably  by  dissensions  among  their  chiefs,  and  also  by 
their  arms  being  employed  in  attacks  upon  the  Scandinavian  na- 
tions. But  when  Attila  (or  Atzel,  as  he  is  called  in  the  Hungarian 
language)  became  their  ruler,  the  torrent  of-  their  arms  was 
directed  with  augmented  terrors  upon  the  west  and  the  south,  and 
their  myriads  marched  beneath  the  guidance  of  one  master-mind 
to  the  overthrow  both  of  the  new  and  the  old  powers  of  the  earth. 
Kecent  events  have  thrown  such  a  strong  interest  over  every 
thing  connected  with  the  Hungarian  name,  that  even  the  terrible 
renown  of  Attila  now  impresses  us  the  more  vividly  through  our 
sympathizing  admiration  of  the  exploits  of  those  who  claim  to  be 
descended  from  his  warriors,  and  "ambitiously  insert  the  name 
of  Attila  among  their  native  kings."  The  authenticity  of  this  mar- 
tial genealogy  is  denied  by  some  writers  and  qiiestioned  by  more. 
Eut  it  is  at  least  certain  that  the  Magyaar  of  Arpad,  who  are  the 
immediate  ancestors  of  the  bulk  of  the  modern  Hungarians,  and 
who  conquered  the  country  which  bears  the  name  of  Hungary  in 
A.D.  889,  were  of  the  same  stock  of  mankind  as  were  the  Huns  of 
Attila,  even  if  they  did  not  belong  to  the  same  subdivision  of  that 
stock.  Kor  is  there  any  improbability  in  the  tradition  that  after 
Attila's  death  many  of  his  warriors  remained  in  Hungary,  and  that 
their  descendants  afterward  Joined  the  Huns  of  Arpad  in  their 
career  of  conquest.  It  is  certain  that  Attila  made  Hungary  the 
seat  of  his  empire.  It  seems  also  susceptible  of  clear  proof  that 
the  territory  was  then  called  Hungvar  and  Attila's  soldiers  Hung- 
vari.  Both  the  Huns  of  Attila  and  those  of  Arpad  came  from  the 
family  of  nomadic  nations  whose  primitive  regions  M-ere  those  vast 
wildernesses  of  High  Asia  whi(^h  are  includetl  between  the  Altaic 
and  the  Himalayan  mountain  chains.  The  inroads  of  these  tribes 
upon  the  lower  regions  of  Asia  and  into  Europe  have  caused  many 
of  thp  most  remarkable  revolutions  in  the  history  of  the  world. 
There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  swarms  of  these  nations 
made  their  way  into  distant  parts  of  the  earth,  at  periods  long 
before  the  date  of  he  Scythian  invasion  of  Asia,  which  is  the  earliest 
D.B.— 5 


130  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

inroad  of  the  nomadic  race  that  liistory  records.  The  first,  as  far  as 
•we  can  conjecture,  in  resjDect  to  the  time  of  their  descent,  were  the 
Finnish  and  Ugrian  tribes,  who  a2Jpear  to  have  come  down  from  the 
Altaic  border  of  High  Asia  toward  the  northwest,  in  which  direc- 
tion they  advanced  to  the  Uralian  Mountains.  There  they  estab- 
lished themselves  ;  and  that  mountain  chain,  with  its  valleys  and 
pasture  lands,  became  to  them  a  new  country,  whence  they  sent 
out  colonies  on  every  side  ;  biat  the  Ugrian  colony,  which,  under 
Arpad,  occupied  Hungary,  and  became  the  ancestors  of  the  bulk 
of  the  present  Hungarian  nation,  did  not  quit  their  settlements 
on  the  Uralian  Mountains  till  a  very  late  period,  and  not  until 
four  centuries  after  the  time  when  Attila  led  from  the  )n-imary 
seats  of  the  nomadic  races  in  High  Asia  the  host  with  which  he 
advanced  into  the  heart  of  France.*  That  host  was  Turkish,  but 
closely  allied  in  origin,  language,  and  habits  with  the  Finno-Ugrian 
settlers  on  the  Ural. 

Attila's  fame  has  not  come  down  to  us  through  the  partial  and 
suspicious  medium  of  chroniclers  and  poets  of  his  own  race.  It  is 
not  from  Hunnish  atithorities  that  we  learn  the  extent  of  his  might : 
it  is  from  his  enemies,  from  the  literature  and  the  legends  of  the 
nations  whom  he  afflicted  with  his  arms,  that  we  draw  the  unques- 
tionable evidence  of  his  greatness.  Besides  the  express  narratives 
of  Byzantine,  Latin,  and  Gothic  writers,  we  have  the  strongest 
proof  of  the  stern  reality  of  Attila's  conquests  in  the  extent  to 
which  he  and  his  Huns  have  been  the  themes  of  the  earliest  Ger- 
man and  Scandinavian  lays.  Wild  as  many  of  those  legends  are, 
they  bear  concurrent  and  certain  testimony  to  the  awe  with  which 
the  memory  of  Attila  was  regarded  by  the  bold  warriors  who  com- 
posed and  delighted  in  them.  Attila's  exploits,  and  the  wonders 
of  his  unearthly  steel  and  magic  sword,  repeatedly  occur  in  the 
Sagas  of  Norway  and  Iceland  ;  and  the  celebrated  Niebelungen 
Lied,  the  most  ancient  of  Germanic  poetry,  is  full  of  them.  There 
Etsel,  or  Attila,  is  described  as  the  wearer  of  twelve  mighty  crowns, 
and  as  jDromising  to  his  bride  the  lands  of  thirty  kings  whom  his 
irresistible  sword  had  subdued.  He  is,  in  fact,  the  hero  of  the 
latter  part  of  this  remarkable  poeih  ;  and  it  is  at  his  capital  city, 
Etselenburgh,  which  evidently  corresponds  to  the  modern  Bud'a, 
that  much  of  its  action  takes  place. 

"When  we  turn  from  the  legendary  to  the  historic  Attila,  we  see 
clearly  that  he  was  not  one  of  the  vulgar  herd  of  barbaric  con- 
querors. Consummate  militaiy  skill  may  be  traced  in  his  cam- 
paigns; and  he  relied  far  less  on  the  brute  force  of  armies  for  the 
aggrandizement  of  his  empire,  than  on  the  unbounded  influence 
over  the  affections  of  friends  and  the  fears  of  foes  which  his  genius 
enabled  him  to  acquire.  Austerely  sober  in  his  private  life— 
severely  just  on  the  judgment  seat — conspicuous  among  a  nation 

*  See  Piltchard's  "  Kesearches  into  the  Physical  liistory  of  Mankind." 


BATTLE  OF  CUALONS.  131 

of  ■warriors  for  hardihood,  strength,  and  skill  in  every  martial 
exercise — grave  and  deliberate  in  counsel,  but  rapid  and  remorse- 
less in  bxecution,  he  gave  safety  and  security  to  all  who  were  under 
his  dominion,  wlaile  he  waged  a  warfare  of  extermination  against 
all  who  opposed  or  sought  to  escape  from  it.  He  watched  the 
national  i^assions,  the  prejudices,  the  creeds,  and  the  superstitions 
of  the  varied  nations  over  which  he  ruled,  and  of  those  which  he 
sought  to  reduce  beneath  his  sway  :  all  these  feelings  he  had  the 
skill  to  turn  to  his  own  account.  His  own  warriors  believed  him 
to  be  the  inspired  favorite  of  their  deities,  and  followed  him  with'/ 
fanatic  zeal ;  his  enemies  looked  on  him  as  the  pre-appointed  minis-'| 
ter  of  heaven's  wrath  against  themselves  ;  and  though  they  believed 
not  in  his  creed,  their  own  made  them  tremble  before  him. 

In  one  of  his  early  campaigns  he  a^jpeared  before  his  troops  with 
an  ancient  iron  sword  in  his  grasp,  which  he  told  them  was  the 
god  of  war  whom  their  ancestors  had  worshipped.  It  is  certain  that 
the  nomadic  tribes  of  Northern  Asia,  whom  Herodotus  described 
under  the  name  of  Scythians,  from  the  earliest  times  worshipped 
as  their  god  a  bare  SMord.  That  sword-god  was  supposed,  in 
Attila's  time,  to  have  disappeared  from  earth  ;  but  the  Hunnish 
king  now  claimed  to  have  received  it  by  special  revelation.  It  was 
said  that  a  herdsman,  who  was  tracking  in  the  desert  a  wounded 
heifer  by  the  dropa  of  blood,  found  the  mysterious  sword  standing 
fixed  in  the  ground,  as  if  it  had  darted  down  from  heaven.  The 
herdsman  bore  it  to  Attila,  who  thenceforth  was  believed  by  the 
Huns  to  wield  the  Spirit  of  Death  in  battle,  and  their  seers  proph- 
esied that  that  sword  was  to  destroy  the  world.  A  Roman,*  who 
was  on  an  embassy  to  the  Hunnish  camp,  recorded  in  his  memoirs 
Attila's  acquisition  of  this  supernatural  Meapon,  and  the  immense 
influence  over  the  minds  of  the  barbaric  tribes  which  its  possession 
gave  him.  In  the  title  which  he  assumed  we  shall  see  the  skill 
■with  which  he  availed  himself  of  the  legends  and  creeds  of  other 
nations  as  ■well  as  of  his  own.  He  designated  himself  "Attica, 
Descendant  of  the  Great  Nimrod.  Nurtured  in  Engaddi.  By  the 
Grace  of  God,  King  of  the  Huns,  the  Goths,  the  Danes,  and  the 
Medes.     The  Dread  of  the  World." 

Herbert  states  that  Attila  is  represented  on  an  old  medallion  with  a 
Teraphim,  or  a  head,  on  his  breast ;  and  the  same  writer  adds,  "We 
know,  from  the  '  Hamartigenea '  of  Prudentius,  that  Nimrod,  with 
a  snaky-haired  head,  was  the  object  of  adoration  of  the  heretical 
followers  of  Marcion  ;  and  the  same  head  was  the  palladium  set 
•up  by  Antiochus  Epiphanes  over  the  gates  of  Antioch,  though  it 
has  been  called  the  visage  of  Charon.  The  memory  of  Nimrod 
■was  certainly  regarded  with  mystic  veneration  by  inany  ;  and  by 
asserting  himself  to  be  the  heir  of  that  mighty  hunter  before 
the  Lord,  he  vindicated  to  himself  at  least  the  whole  Babylonian 
kingdom. 

*  rrlscus  upud  Jomanaem. 


132  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

"  The  singular  assertion  in  his  style,  that  he  was  nurtured  in 

Engaddi,  -where  he  certainly  had  never  been,  will  be  more  easily 
understood  on  reference  to  the  twelfth  chajiter  of  the  Book  of  Kev- 
elations,  concerning  the  woman  clothed  with  the  sun,  who  was  to 
bring  forth  in  the  wilderness  'where  she  hath  a  place  prepared  of 
God' — a  man-child,  who  was  to  contend  with  the  dragon  having 
seven  heads  and  ten  horns,  and  rule  all  nations  with  a  rod  of  iron. 
This  projihecy  was  at  that  time  understood  universally  by  the  sin- 
cere Christians  to  refer  to  the  birth  of  Constantine,  who  was  to 
overwhelm  the  paganism  of  the  city  on  the  seven  hills  and  it  is 
still  so  explained  ;  but  it  is  evident  that  the  heathens  must  have 
looked  on  it  in  a  different  light,  and  regarded  it  as  a  foretelling  of 
the  birth  of  that  Great  One  who  should  master  the  temporal  power 
of  Kome.  The  assertion,  therefore,  that  he  was  nurtiired  in 
Engaddi,  is  a  claim  to  be  looked  upon  as  that  man-child  who  was 
to  be  brought  forth  in  a  place  prepared  of  God  in  the  wilderness. 
Engaddi  means  a  place  of  j^alms  and  vines  in  the  desert ;  it  was 
hard  by  Zoar,  the  city  of  refuge,  which  was  saved  in  the  Vale  of 
Siddim,  of  Demons,  when  the  rest  were  destroyed  by  fire  and 
brimstone  from  the  Lord  in  heaven,  and  might,  therefore,  be 
esi^eeially  called  a  place  prejjared  of  God  in  the  wilderness." 

It  is  obvious  enough  why  he  styled  himself  "By  the  Grace  of 
God,  King  of  the  Huns  and  Goths  ; "  and  it  seems  far  from  difficult 
to  see  why  he  added  the  names  of  the  Medes  and  the  Danes.  His 
armies  had  been  engaged  in  warfare  against  the  Persian  kingdom 
of  the  Sassanidse,  and  it  is  certain*  that  he  meditated  the  invasion 
and  overthrow  of  the  Medo-Persian  power.  Probably  some  of  the 
northern  provinces  of  that  kingdom  had  been  compelled  to  pay 
him  tribute;  and  this  would  account  for  his  styling  himself  King 
of  the  Medes,  they  being  his  remotest  subjects  to  the  south.  From 
a  similar  cause,  he  may  have  called  himself  King  of  the  Danes,  as 
his  power  may  well  have  extended  northward  as  far  as  the  nearest 
of  the  Scandinavian  nations,  and  this  mention  of  Medes  and 
Danes  as  his  siibjects  would  serve  at  once  to  indicate  the  vast  ex- 
tent of  his  dominion.! 

The  immense  territory  north  of  the  Danube  and  Black  Sea  and 
eastward  of  Caucasus,  over  which  Attila  ruled,  iirst  in  conjunction 
with  his  brother  Bleda,  and  afterward  alone,  cannot  be  very  ac- 
curately defined,  but  it  miist  have  comprised  within  it,  besides 
the  Huns,  many  nations  of  Slavic,  Gothic,  Teutonic,  and  Finnish 
origin.  South  also  of  the  Danube,  the  country,  from  the  Eiver 
Sau  as  far  as  Novi  in  Thrace,  was  a  Hunnish  province.  Such  was 
the  empire  of  the  Huns  in  a.d.  445  ;  a  memorable  year,  in  which 

*  Pee  the  narrative  of  Priscus. 

t  In  the  "  Niebelunc-ren  Lied,"  the  old  poet  who  describes  the  reception  of 
the  heroine  Chrimhiid  by  Attila  [Etsel],  says  that  Attlla's  dominions  were 
so  vast,  that  iimong  his  subject-warriors  there  were  Russian,  Greek,  Wal- 
lachian,  tohsh,  a7id  even  Danish  knights: 


BATTLE  OF  CIIALOXS.  133 

Attila  founded  Biida  on  the  Daniibe  as  his  capital  city,  and  ridded 
himself  of  his  brother  by  a  crime  -which  seems  to  have  been 
prompted  not  only  by  seliish  ambition,  but  also  by  a  desire  of 
turning  to  his  purjiose  the  legends  and  forebodings  which  then 
were  universally  spread  throughout  the  Roman  emjjire,  and  must 
have  been  well  known  to  the  watchful  and  ruthless  Hun. 

The  year  445  of  our  era  completed  the  twelfth  century  from  the 
foundation  of  Eome,  according  to  the  best  chronologers.  It  had 
always  been  believed  among  the  Eomans  that  the  twelve  vultures, 
which  were  said  to  have  appeared  to  Eomulus  when  he  founded 
the  city,  signified  the  time  during  which  the  Eoman  power  should 
endure.  The  twelve  vultures  denoted  twelve  centuries.  This  in- 
terpretation of  the  vision  of  the  birds  of  destiny  was  current 
among  learned  Eomans,  even  when  there  was  yet  many  of  the 
twelve  centuries  to  run,  and  while  the  imj^erial  city  was  at  the 
zenith  of  its  power.  But  as  the  allotted  time  drew  nearer  and 
nearer  to  its  conclusion,  and  as  Eome  grew  weaker  and  weaker 
beneath  the  blows  of  barbaric  invaders,  the  terrible  omen  was  more 
and  more  talked  and  thought  of ;  and  in  Attila's  time,  men 
watched  for  the  momentary  extinction  of  the  Eoman  state  with  the 
last  beat  of  the  last  vulture's  wing.  Moreover,  among  the  numer- 
ous legends  connected  with  the  foundation  of  the  city,  and  the 
fratricidal  death  of  Eemus,  there  was  one  most  terrible  one,  which 
told  that  Eomulus  did  not  put  his  brother  to  death  iu  accident  or 
in  hasty  quarrel,  but  that 

."  He  slew  Ws  gallant  twhi 
Witli  Inexpiable  sin," 

deliberately,  and  in  compliance  with  the  warnings  of  supernatural 
power.  The  shedding  of  a  brother's  blood  was  believed  to  have 
been  the  price  at  which  the  founder  of  Eome  had  purchased  from 
destiny  her  twelve  centuries  of  existence.* 

We  may  imagine,  therefore,  with  what  terror  in  this,  the  twelve 
hundredth  year  after  the  foimdation  of  Eome,  the  inhabitants  of 
the  Eoman  empire  must  have  heard  the  tidings 'that  the  royal 
brethren,  Attila  and  Bleda,  had  founded  a  new  capital  on  the 
Danube,  which  was  designed  to  rule  over  the  ancient  capital  on 
the  Tiber  ;  and  that  Attila,  like  Eomulus,  had  consecrated  the 
foundations  of  his  new  city  by  murdering  his  brother ;  so  that 
for  the  new  cycle  of  centuries  then  about  to  commence,  dominion 
had  been  bought  from  the  gloomy  spirits  of  destiny  in  favor  of 
the  Hun  by  a  sacrifice  of  equal  awe  and  value  with  that  which  had 
formerly  obtained  it  for  the  Eoman. 

It  is  to  be  remembered  that  not  only  the  pagans,  but  also  the 

•  See  a  curious  Justification  of  AttUa  for  murdering  his  brother,-  by  a 
zealous  Hungarian  advocate,  in  the  note  toPray's  "Annales  Hunnorum,' 
p.  117.    The  example  ot  liomulus  is  the  main  authority  quoted. 


134  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

Christians  of  that  age,  know  and  believed  in  these  legends  and 
omens,  however  they  might  differ  as  to  the  nature  of  the  super- 
human agency  by  which  such  mysteries  had  been  made  known 
to  mankind.  And  we  may  observe,  with  Herbert,  a  modern 
learned  dignitary  of  our  church,  how  remarkably  this  augury  was 
fulfilled;  for  "if  to  the  twelve  centuries  denoted  by  the  twelve 
vultures  that  appeared  to  Eomulus,  we  add  for  the  six  birds  that 
appeared  to  Kemus  six  lustra,  or  periods  of  live  years  each,  by 
which  the  Eomans  were  wont  to  number  their  time,  it  brings  us 
precisely  to  the  year  476,  in  which  the  Eoman  empire  was  finally 
extinguished  by  Odoacer." 

An  attempt  to  assassinate  Attila,  made,  or  supposed  to  have 
been  made,  at  the  instigation  of  Theodoric  the  younger,  the  Em- 
peror of  Constantinople,  drew  the  Hunnish  armies,  in  445,  upon 
the  Eastern  empire,  and  delayed  for  a  time  the  destined  blow 
against  Rome.  Probably  a  more  important  cause  of  delay  was  the 
revolt  of  some  of  the  Hunnish  tribes  to  the  north  of  the  lilack  Sea 
against  Attila,  which  broke  out  about  this  period,  and  is  cursorily 
mentioned  by  the  Byzantine  writers.  Attila  quelled  this  revolt, 
and  having  thus  consolidated  his  power,  and  having  punished 
the  presumption  of  the  Eastern  Eoman  emperor  by  fearful  rav- 
ages of  his  fairest  provinces,  Attila,  in  450  a.d.,  prepared  to  set 
his  vast  forces  in  motion  for  the  conquest  of  Western  Europe.  He 
sought  unsuccessfully  by  diplomatic  intrigues  to  detach  the  King 
of  the  "Visigoths  from  his  alliance  with  Eome,  and  he  resolved 
first  to  crush  the  power  of  Theodoric,  and  then  to  advance  with 
overwhelming  power  to  trample  out  the  last  sparks  of  the  doomed 
Eoman  empire. 

A  strange  invitation  from  a  Eoman  princess  gave  him  a  pretext 
for  the  war,  and  threw  an  air  of  chivalric  enterprise  over  his  inva- 
sion. Honoria,  sister  of  Valentinian  III.,  the  Emperor  of  the 
West,  had  sent  to  Attila  to  off"er  him  her  hand  and  her  supposed 
right  to  share  in  the  imperial  power.  This  had  been  discovered 
by  the  Eomans,  and  Honoria  had  been  forthwith  closely  impris- 
oned. Attila  now  pretended  to  take  up  arms  in  behalf  of  his  self- 
promised  bride,  and  proclaimed  that  he  was  about  to  march  to 
Eome  to  redress  Honoria's  wrongs.  Ambition  and  spite  against 
her  brother  must  have  been  the  sole  motives  that  led  the  lady  to 
woo  the  royal  Hun;  for  Attila  s  face  and  person  had  all  the  natural 
ugliness  of  his  race,  and  the  description  given  of  him  by  a  Byzan- 
tine embassador  must  have  been  well  known  in  the  imperial 
courts.  Herbert  has  well  versified  the  portrait  drawn  by  Priscus 
of  the  great  enemy  of  both  Byzantium  and  Eome: 

"  Terrific  was  Ills  semhlance,  In  no  mold 
Of  beautiful  proportion  cast ;  Ills  limbs 
Nothing  exalted,  but  with  sinews  braced 
Of  Chalybasan  temper,  agile,  lithe. 
And  swifter  than  the  roe ;  his  ample  chest 


BATTLE  OF  CHALONS.  135 

Was  overbrow'd  by  a  g:igaiitlc  head, 

Wltti  eyes  keen,  deeply  sunk,  and  small,  that  gleam-d 

Strangely  In  wrath  as  though  some  spirit  unclean 

Within  that  corporal  tenement  install  d 

Lookd  from  its  windows,  but  with  tempered  fire 

Bearn'd  mildly  on  the  unresisting.    Thin 

His  beard  and  hoary:  his  flat  nostrils  crown'd 

A  cicatrized,  swart  visage ;  but,  withal. 

That  Questionable  shape  such  glory  wore 

That  mortals  quail  d  beneath  Lim." 

Two  chiefs  of  the  Franks,  who  were  then  settled  on  the  Lower 
Khine,  were  at  this  period  engaged  in  a  feud  w^ith  each  other,  and 
while  one  of  them  appealed  to  the  Komans  for  aid,  the  other  in- 
voked the  assistance  and  protection  of  the  Huns.  Attila  thus  ob- 
tained an  ally  whose  co-operation  secured  for  him  the  j^assage  of 
the  Rhine,  and  it  was  this  circumstance  which  caused  him  to  take 
a  northward  route  from  Hungary  for  his  attack  upon  Gaul.  The 
muster  of  the  Hunnish  hosts  was  swollen  by  warriors  of  every 
tribe  that  they  had  subjugated;  nor  is  there  any  reason  to  suspect 
the  old  chroniclers  of  wilful  exaggeration  in  estimating  Attila"s 
army  at  seven  hi;ndred  thousand  strong.  Having  crossed  the 
Rhine  probably  a  little  below  Coblentz,  he  defeatLd  the  King  of 
the  Burgundians,  who  endeavored  to  bar  his  progress.  He  then 
divided  his  vast  forces  into  two  armies,  one  of  which  marched 
northwest  upon  Tongres  and  Arras,  and  the  other  cities  of  that 
part  of  France,  while  the  main  body,  under  Attila  himself,  ad- 
vanced up  the  Moselle,  and  destroyed  Bcsaugon  and  other  towns 
in  the  country  of  the  Burgundians.  One  of  the  latest  and  best 
biographers  of  Attila*  well  observes,  that,  "having thus concjuered 
the  eastern  part  of  France,  Attila  prepared  for  an  invasion  of  the 
West  Gothic  territories  beyond  the  Loire.  He  marched  upon  Or- 
leans, where  he  intended  to  force  the  jDassage  of  that  river,  and 
only  a  little  attention  is  requisite  to  enable  us  to  perceive  that  he 
proceeded  on  a  systematic  plan:  he  had  his  right  wing  on  the 
north  for  the  protection  of  his  Frank  allies;  his  left  wing  on  the 
south  for  the  pui^jose  of  preventing  the  Burgundians  from  rally- 
ing, and  of  menacing  the  passes  of  the  Alps  fromltaly;  and  he  led 
his  center  toward  the  chief  object  of  the  campaign— the  con- 
quest of  Orleans,  and  an  easy  passage  into  the  West  Gothic  do- 
minion. The  whole  plan  is  very  like  that  of  the  allied  powers  in 
1S14,  with  this  difference,  that  their  left  wing  entered  France 
through  the  defiles  of  the  Jura,  in  the  direction  of  Lyons,  and 
that  the  military  object  of  the  campaign  was  the  capture  of  Paris." 
It  was  not  until  the  year  451  that  the  Huns  commenced  the  siege 
of  Orleans  ;  and  during  their  campaign  in  Eastern  Gaul,  the  Ilo- 
man  general  Aetius  had  strenuously  exerted  himself  in  collecting 
and  oi'ganizing  such  an  army  as  might,  when  united  to  the  soldiery 

*  Biographical  Dictionary  commenced  by  the  Useful  Knowledge  Society 
In  1S44. 


136  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

of  the  Visigoths,  be  fit  to  face  the  Hnns  in  the  field.  He  enlisted 
every  sxibjeet  of  the  lloman  empire  whom  patriotism,  courage,  or 
compulsion  could  collect  beneath  the  standards  ;  and  round  these 
troops,  which  assumed  the  once  i^roud  title  of  the  legions  of  Home, 
he  arrayed  the  large  forces  of  barbaric  auxiliaries,  whom  pay,  per- 
suasion, or  the  general  hate  and  dread  of  the  Huns  brought' to  the 
camp  cf  the  last  of  the  lloman  generals.  King  Theodoric  exerted 
himself  with  equal  energ3^  Orleans  resisted  her  besiegers  bravely 
as  in  after  times.  The  jjassage  of  the  Loire  was  skilfully  defended 
against  the  Huns  ;  and  Aetius  and  Theodoric,  after  miach  maneu- 
vering and  difficulty,  effected  a  junction  of  their  armies  to  the 
south  of  that  imjiortant  river. 

On  the  advance  of  the  allies  upon  Orleans,  Attila  instantly  broke 
up  the  siege  of  that  cit^',  and  retreated  toward  the  Marne.  He  did 
not  choose  to  risk  a  decisive  battle  with  only  the  central  corps  of 
his  army  against  the  combined  power  of  his  enemies,  and  he  there- 
fore fell  back  upon  his  base  of  0])erations,  calling  in  his  wings  from 
Arras  and  Besangon,  and  concentrating  the  whole  of  the  Hunnish 
forces  on  the  vast  plains  of  Chalons-sur-Marne.  A  glance  at  the 
map  will  show  how  scientifically  this  place  was  chosen  by  the 
Hunnish  general  as  the  point  for  his  scattered  forces  to  converge 
upon  ;  and  the  nature  of  the  ground  was  eminently  favorable  for 
the  oi3erations  of  cavalry,  the  arm  in  which  Attila's  strength  pecu- 
liarly lay. 

It  was  during  the  retreat  from  Orleans  that  a  Christian  hermit  is 
reported  to  have  approached  the  Hunnish  king,  and  said  to  him, 
"Thou  art  the  Scourge  of  God  for  the  chastisement  of  the  Chris- 
tians." Attila  instantly  assumed  this  new  title  of  terror,  which 
thenceforth  became  the  appellation  by  which  he  was  most  widely 
and  most  fearfully  known. 

The  confederate  armies  of  Komans  and  Visigoths  at  last  met  their 
great  adversary  face  to  face  on  the  ample  battle-ground  of  the 
Chalons  plains.  Aetius  commanded  on  the  right  of  the  allies  ; 
King  Theodoric  on  the  left;  and  Sangipan,  king  of  the  Alans, 
whose  fidelity  was  suspected,  was  placed  jiurposely  in  the  center, 
rnd  in  the  very  front  of  the  battle.  Attila  commanded  his  center 
in  person,  at  the  head  of  his  own  countrymen,  while  the  Ostro- 
goths, the  Gepidre,  and  the  other  subject  allies  of  the  Huns 
W3re  drawn  iip  on  the  wings.  Some  maneuvering  appears  to  have 
occurred  before  the  engagement,  in  which  Aetius  had  the  advan- 
tage, inasmuch  as  he  succeeded  in  occiipying  a  sloping  hill,  which 
commanded  the  left  flank  of  the  Hims.  Attila  saw  the  imi^ortance 
of  the  position  taken  by  Aetius  on  the  high  ground,  and  commenced 
the  battle  by  a  furious  attack  on  this  part  of  the  Eoman  line,  in 
which  he  seems  to  have  detached  some  of  his  best  troops  from  his 
C3nter  to  aid  his  left.  The  Eomans,  having  the  advantage  of  the 
ground,  repulsed  the  Huns,  and  while  the  allies  gained  this  advan- 
tage on  the  right,  their  left,    under  King   Thaodoric,  assailed  the 


BATTLE  OF  CHALONS.  IS'i 

Ostrogoths,  -who  formed  the  right  of  Attila's  army.  The  gallant 
king  Mas  himself  struck  down  by  a  javelin,  as  he  rode  onward  at 
the  head  of  his  men  ;  and  his  own  cavalry  charging  over  him, 
trampled  him  to  death  in  the  confusion.  But  the  Visigoths,  infu- 
riated, not  dispirited,  by  their  monarch's  full,  roiited  the  enemies 
opposed  to  them,  and  then  wheeled  upon  the  flank  oftheHunnish 
tenter,  which  had  been  engaged  in  a  sanguinary  and  indecisive 
contest  -with  the  Alans. 

'  In  this  peril  Attila  made  his  center  fiill  back  upon  his  camp  ;  and 
■when  the  shelter  of  its  entrenchments  and  wagons  had  once  been 
gained,  the  Hunnish  archers  repulsed,  without  difUculty,  the 
charges  of  the  vengeful  Gothic  cavalry.  Aetius  had  not  pressed 
the  a7lvantage  which  he  gained  on  his  side  of  the  field,  and  when 
night  fell  over  the  wild  scene  of  havoc,  Attila's  left  was  still  unde- 
feated, but  his  right  had  been  routed,  and  his  center  forced  back 
upon  his  cam}). 

Expecting  an  assault  on  the  morrow,  Attila  stationed  his  best 
archers  in  front  of  the  cars  and  wagons,  which  were  drawn  up  as  a 
fortification  along  his  lines,  and  made  every  preparation  for  a 
desperate  resistance.  But  the  "Scourge  of  God"  resolved  that  no 
man  should  boast  of  the  honor  of  having  either  captured  or  slain 
him,  and  he  caused  to  be  raised  in  the  center  of  his  encampment  a 
huge  pyramid  of  the  wooden  saddles  of  his  cavalry  :  round  it  he 
heaped  the  spoils  and  the  wealth  that  he  had  won  ;  on  it  he  sta- 
tioned his  wives  who  had  accompanied  him  in  the  campaign  ;  and 
on  the  summit  Attila  placed  himself,  ready  to  perish  in  the  flames, 
and  balk  the  victorious  foe  of  their  choicest  bootj',  should  they 
succeed  in  storming  his  defenses. 

But  when  the  morning  broke  and  revealed  the  extent  of  the  car- 
nage with  which  the  plains  were  heaped  for  miles,  the  successful 
allies  saw  also  and  respected  the  resoluteattitude  of  their  antagonist. 
Neither  were  any  measures  taken  to  blockade  him  in  his  camp,  and 
so  to  extoi-t  by  famine  that  submission  which  it  was  too  plainly 
perilous  to  enforce  with  the  sword.*  Attila  was  allowed  to  march 
back  the  remnants  of  his  army  without  molestation,  and  even  with 
the  semblance  of  success. 

It  is  probable  that  the  crafty  Aetius  was  unwilling  to  be  too 
victorious.  He  dreaded  the  glory  which  his  allies  the  Visigoths 
had  acquired,  and  feared  that  Kome  might  find  a  second  Aleric  m 
Prince  Thorismund,  who  had  signalized  himself  in  the  battle,  and 
had  been  chosen  on  the  field  to  succeed  his  father  Theodoric.  He 
persuaded  the  young  king  to  return  at  once  to  his  capital,  and 
thus  relieved  himself  at  the  same  time  of  the  presence  of  a  danger- 
ous friend,  as  well  as  of  a  formidable  though  beaten  foe. 

Attila's  attacks  on  the  Western  empire  were  soon  renewed,  biat 
never  with  such  peril  to  the  civilized  world  as  had  menaced  it 
before  his  defeat  at  Chalons  ;  and  on  his  death  two  years  after  that 
battle,  the  vast  empire  which  his  genius  had  founded  was  soon  dis- 


138  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

severed  by  the  successful  revolts  of  the  subject  nations.  The  name 
of  the  Huns  ceased  lY  r  some  centuries  to  insj^irt:  terror  in  Western 
Europe,  and  their  ascendency  passed  away  with  the  life  of  the  great 
king  by  whom  it  had  been  so  fearfully  augmented.* 


Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Chalons,  a.d.  451,  and 
THE  Battle  of  Toues,  a.  d.  732. 

A.D.  476.  The  Eoman  empire  of  the  West  extinguished  bj 
Odoaeer. 

481.  Establishment  of  the  French  monarchy  in  Gaul  by  Clevis. 

455-582.  The  Saxons,  Angles,  and  Frisians  conquer  Britian,  ex- 
cept the  northern  jDarts  and  the  districts  along  the  west  coast. 
The  German  conquerers  found  eight  independent  kingdoms. 

533-5G8.  The  generals  of  Justinian,  the  Emperor  of  Constanti- 
nople, conquer  Italy  and  North  Africa  ;  and  these  countries  are  foy 
a  short  time  annexed  to  the  Eoman  empire  of  the  East. 

568-570.  The  Lombards  conquer  great  part  of  Italy. 

570-627.  The  wars  between  the  emiDerors  of  Constantinojile  and 
the  kings  of  Persia  are  actively  continued. 

622.  The  Mohammedan  era  of  the  Hegira.  Mohammed  is  driven 
from  Mecca,  and  is  received  as  Prince  of  Medina. 

629-632.  Mohammed  conquers  Arabia. 

632-651.  The  Mohammedan  Arabs  invade  and  conquer  Persia. 

632-709.  They  attack  the  Koman  empire  of  the  East.  They  con- 
quer Syria,  Egypt  and  Africa. 

709-713.  They  cross  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar,  and  invade  and 
conquer  Spain. 


CHAPTEE  VII. 

THE   BATTLE    OF   TOUES,    A.D.   732. 

The  events  that  rescued  our  ancestors  of  Britain  and  oiu*  neighbors  of 
Gaul  fi'om  the  civil  and  religious  yoke  oi"  the  Koran.— Gibbon. 

The  broad  tract  of  campaign  country  which  intervenes  between 

*  If  I  seem  to  have  given  fewer  of  the  details  of  the  tattle  Itself  than  Its 
Importance  would  warrant,  my  excuse  must  be,  that  (Gibbon  has  enriched 
our  language  with  a  description  of  It,  too  long  lor  quotation  and  loo  splendid 
lor  rivalry.  I  have  not.  however,  taken  altogether  the  same  a  lew  ot  it  that 
he  has.  The  notes  to  Mr.  Herbert  s  poem  of  ■■  Attdla''  bring  together  nearly 
all  the  authorities  on  the  subject. 


BATTLE  OF  TOUBS  139 

the  cities  of  Poictiers  and  Tours  is  principally  composed  of  a  suc- 
cession of  rich  pasture  lands,  which  are  traversed  and  tertihzed  by 
the  Cher,  the  Creuse,  the  Vienna,  the  Claine,  the  Indre,  and  other 
tributaries  of  the  Eiver  Loire.  Here  and  there  the  ground  swells 
into  picturesque  eminences,  and  occasionally  a  belt  of  forest  land, 
a  brown  heath,  or  a  clustering  series  of  vineyards  breaks  the 
monotony  of  the  widespread  meadows  ;  but  the  general  character 
of  the  land  is  that  of  a  grassy  plain,  and  it  seems  naturally  adapted 
for  the  evolutions  of  numerous  armies,  especially  of  those  vast 
bodies  of  cavalry  which  principally  decided  the  fate  of  nations 
during  the  centuries  that  followed  the  downfall  of  Kome,  and  pre^ 
ceded  the  consolidation  of  the  modern  European  powers. 

This  region  has  been  signalized  by  more  than  one  memorable 
conflict ;  but  it  is  principally  interesting  to  the  historian  by  having 
been  the  scene  of  the  great  victory  won  by  Charles  Martel  over  the 
Saracens,  a.d.  732,  which  gave  a  decisive  check  to  the  career  of 
Arab  conquest  in  Western  Europe,  rescued  Christendom  from 
Islam,  preserved  the  relics  of  ancient  and  the  germs  of  modern 
civilization,  and  re-established  the  old  superiority  of  Indo-European 
over  the  Semitic  family  of  mankind. 

Sismondi  and  Michelet  have  underrated  the  enduring  interest  of 
this  great  Appeal  of  Battle  between  the  champions  of  the  Crescent 
and  the  Cross.  But,  if  French  writers  have  slighted  the  exploits 
of  their  national  hero,  the  Saracenic  troi^hies  of  Charles  Martel  have 
had  full  justice  done  to  them  by  English  and  German  historians. 
Gibbon  devotes  several  pages  of  his  great  work*  to  the  narrative  of 
the  battle  of  Tours,  and  the  consideration  of  the  consequences 
which  probably  would  have  resulted  if  Abderrahman's  enter- 
prise had  not  been  crushed  by  the  Prankish  chief.  Schlegelf 
speaks  of  this  "mighty  victory"  in  terms  of  fervent  gratitude,  and 
tells  how  "the  arm  of  Charles  Martel  saved  and  delivered  the 
Christian  nations  of  the  West  from  the  deadly  grasp  of  all-destroy- 
ing Islam  ;"  and  Ranket  points  out,  as  "one  of  the  most  important 
epochs  in  the  history  of  the  world,  the  commencement  of  the  eighth 
century,  when  on  one  side  Mohammedanism  threatened  to  over- 
spread Italy  and  Gaul,  and  on  the  other  the  ancient  idolatry  of 
Saxony  and  Priesland  once  more  forced  its  way  across  the  Rhine. 
In  this  peril  of  Christian  institutions,  a  youthful  prince  of  Germanio 
race,  Karl  MartcU,  arose  as  their  champion,  maintained  them  with 
all  the  energy  which  the  necessity  for  self-defense  calls  forth,  and 
finally  extended  them  into  new  regions." 

*  Vol.  vll.,  p.  17,  et  seq.  Gibbon's  sneering  remark,  that  tf  the  Saracen 
conquests  had  not  then  been  checked,  "perhaps  the  Interpretation  of  the 
Koran  would  now  be  taught  In  the  schools  of  Oxford,  and  her  pulpits  might 
demonstrate  to  a  circumcised  people  the  sancity  and  truth  of  the  revelation 
of  ^Mohammed,  lias  almost  an  air  of  regret. 

t  "  I'hilosphv  of  History,"  p.  331. 

t  "  Illstory  of  the  Keformatlon  in  Germany,"  vol.  1.,  p.  5, 


140  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

Arnold*  ranks  the  victory  of  Charles  Martel  even  higher  than 
the  victorj' of  Aruiiiiius,  "among  those  signal  deliverances  vs^hich 
have  aliected  for  centuries  the  happiness  of  mankind."  In  fact,  the 
more  we  test  its  importance,  the  higher  we  shall  be  led  to  estimate 
it ;  and,  though  all  authentic  details  which  we  possess  of  its  cir- 
cumstances and  its  heroes  are  but  meager,  we  can  trace  enough  of 
its  general  character  to  make  us  watch  with  deep  interest  this 
encounter  between  the  rival  conquerors  of  the  decaying  Roman 
empire.  That  old  classic  world,  the  history  of  which  occupies  so 
large  a  portion  of  our  early  studies,  lay,  in  the  eighth  century  of 
our  era,  utterly  inanimate  and  overthrown.  On  the  north  the 
German,  on  the  south  the  Arab,  was  rending  away  its  provinces. 
At  last  the  spoilers  encountered  one  another,  each  striving  for  the 
full  mastery  of  the  prey.  Their  conflict  brought  back  upon  the 
memory  of  Gibbon  the  old  Homeric  simile,  where  the  strife  of 
Hector  and  Patrochis  over  the  dead  body  of  Cebriones  is  compared 
to  the  combat  of  two  lions,  that  in  their  hate  and  hunger  fight 
together  on  the  mountain  tops  over  the  carcass  of  a  slaughtered 
stag  ;  and  the  reluctant  yielding  of  the  Saracen  power  to  the  supe- 
rior might  of  the  Northern  warriors  might  not  inaptly  recall  those 
other  lines  of  the  same  book  of  the  Iliad,  where  the  downfall  of 
Patroclus  beneath  Hector  is  likened  to  the  forced  yielding  of  the 
]ianting  and  exhaustad  wild  boar,  that  had  long  and  furiously 
fought  with  a  superior  beast  of  prey  for  the  possession  of  the  scanty 
fountain  among  the  rocks  at  which  each  burned  to  drink,  f 

Although  three  centuries  had  passed  away  since  the  Germanic 
conquerors  of  Rome  had  crossed  the  Khine,  never  to  repass  that 
frontier  stream,  no  settled  system  of  institutions  or  government, 
no  amalgamation  of  the  various  races  into  one  people,  no  uniformity 
of  language  or  habits,  had  been  established  in  the  country  at  the 
time  when  Charles  Martel  was  called  to  repel  the  menacing  tide  of 
Saracenic  invasion  from  the  south.  Gaul  was  not  yet  France.  In 
that,  as  in  other  provinces  of  the  Roman  empire  of  the  West,  the 
dominion  of  the  Ciesars  had  been  shattered  as  early  as  the  fifth 
century,  and  barbaric  kingdoms  and  principalities  had  promptly 

*  "  History  of  the  later  Roman  Commonwealtli,''  vol.  ii.,  p.  31". 
f  /leovO''  GO?,  8?/ptvOj}rj^v, 

"^DjT   opEo?  7ioiivcpfj6i  TtEpi  xrajiisvT^'D  hXacpoio, 
''ALimoo  Tteivduvze,  ueXa  mpovEovre  //a'^ecJQor. 

II.,  Tt.  756. 

'/25  5'  OTE  dvv  dudi-iavTa  Xeoov  lfti-ri6aro  xdpni;i, 
Too  r  opeu<^  Kopvq)y6i  jueya  cppoveovTS  )j.dj(it6boVy 
nidauoi  ducp^oXiyrii'  kbiXovdi  8s  Ttie)uEv  djuq^co  • 
iZoAAa  de  r  ddOuaivovra  Xioov  eSdjuadds  fji-pcpiv. 

II.,  7C\823. 


BATTLE  OF  TOURS.  Ul 

arisen  on  the  ruins  of  the  Eoman  power.  But  few  of  these  had  any 
permanency,  ami  none  of  them  consolidated  the  rest,  or  any  con- 
siderable number  of  the  rest,  into  one  coherent  and  organized  civil 
and  political  society.  The  great  bulk  of  the  population  still  con- 
sisted of  the  conquered  i^rovincials,  that  is  to  say,  Komanized  Celts, 
of  a  Gallic  race  which  had  lonsj;  been  under  the  dominion  of  the 
Cffisars,  and  had  acquired,  together  with  no  slight  infusion  of  Eoman 
blood,  the  language,  the  literature,  the  laws  and  the  civilization  of 
Latium.  Among  these,  and  doiuinant  over  them,  roved  or  dwelt  the 
German  victors  ;  some  retaining  nearly  all  the  rude  independence 
of  their  primitive  national  character, others  softened  and  disciplined 
by  the  aspect  and  contact  of  the  manners  and  institutions  of  civil- 
ized life  ;  for  it  is  to  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  Roman  empire  in 
the  West  was  not  crushed  by  any  sudden  avalanche  or  barbaric 
invasion.  The  Germanic  conquerors  came  across  the  Rhine,  not 
in  enormous  hosts,  but  in  bands  of  a  few  thousand  wamors 
at  a  time.  The  conquest  of  a  province  was  the  resiilt  of  aiJ  infinite 
series  of  partial  local  invasions,  carried  on  by  little  armies  of  this 
description.  The  victorious  warriors  either  retired  with  their  booty, 
or  fixed  themselves  in  the  invaded  district,  taking  care  to  keep  siiffi- 
ciently  concentrated  for  military  purjiosss,  and  ever  ready  for  some 
fresh  foraj',  either  against  a  rival  Teutonic  band,  or  some  hitherto 
unassailed  city  of  the  provincials.  Gradiially,  however,  the  con- 
querors acquired  a  desire  for  permanent  landed  possessions.  They 
lost  somewhat  of  the  restless  thirst  for  novelty  and  adventure  which 
had  first  made  them  throng  beneath  the  banner  of  the  boldest  cap- 
tains of  their  tribe,  and  leave  their  native  forests  for  a  roving  mili- 
tary life  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Rhine.  They  were  converted  to 
the  Christian  faith,  and  gave  up  with  their  old  creed  much  of  the 
coarse  ferocity  which  must  have  been  fostered  in  the  spirits  of  the 
ancient  warriors  of  the  North  by  a  mythology  which  promised,  as 
the  reward  of  the  brave  on  earth,  an  eternal  cycle  of  fighting  and 
drunkenness  in  heaven. 

But,  although  their  conversion  and  other  civilizing  influences 
operated  powerfully  ujion  the  Germans  in  Gaul,  and  although  the 
Franks  (who  were  originally  a  confederation  of  the  Teutonic  tribes 
that  dwelt  between  the  Rhine,  the  Maine,  and  the  Weser)  estab- 
lished a  decisnre  siaiieriority  over  the  other  conquerors  of  the  prov- 
ince, as  well  as  over  the  conquered  provincials,  the  country  long 
remained  a  chaos  of  uncombined  and  shifting  elements.  The  early 
princes  of  the  Merovingian  dynasty  were  generally  occu^jied  in 
wars  against  other  princes  of  their  house,  occasioned  by  the  fre- 
quent subdivisions  of  the  Frank  monarchy  ;  and  the  ablest  and  best 
of  them  had  found  all  their  energies  tasked  to  the  utmost  to  defend 
the  barrier  of  the  Rhine  against  the  pagan  Germans  who  strove  to 
pass  the  river  and  gather  their  share  of  the  spoils  of  the  empire. 

The  conquests  which  the  Saracens  eflected  over  the  southern  and 
eastern  provinces  of  Rome  were  far  mor  rapid  than  those  achieved 


142  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

by  the  G-ermans  in  the  north,  and  the  new  organizations  of  society 
which  the  Moslems  iutroduced  were  summarily  and  nnii'ormly 
enforced.  Exactly  a  century  passed  between  the  death  of  Mohammed 
and  the  date  of  the  battle  of  Tours.  During  that  century  the  followers 
of  the  Prophet  had  torn  away  half  the  lioman  empire  ;  and  besides 
their  conquests  over  Persia,  the  Saracens  had  overrun  Syria,  Egypt, 
Mrica,  and  Spain,  in  an  uncheckered  and  apparently  irresistible 
career  of  victory.  Nor,  at  the  commencement  of  the  eighth  century 
of  our  era,  was  the  Mohammedan  world  divided  against  itself,  as  it 
''subsequently  became.  All  these  vast  regions  obeyed  the  caliph  ; 
throughout  them  all,  from  the  Pyrenees  to  the  Oxus,  the  name  of 
Mohammed  was  invoked  in  prayer,  and  the  Koran  revered  as  the 
book  of  the  law. 

It  was  under  one  of  their  ablest  and  most  renowned  commanders, 
with  a  veteran  army,  and  with  every  apparent  advantage  of  time, 
place,  and  circumstance,  that  the  Arabs  made  their  great  effort  at 
the  cont[uest  of  Europe  north  of  the  Pyrenees.  The  victorious 
Moslem  soldiery  in  Spain, 

"A  countless  multitude ; 
Syrian,  Moor,  Saracen,  Greek  renegade, 
Persian,  and  Copt,  and  Tartar,  in  one  bond 
Of  erring  faitli  conjoined— strong  in  the  youtli 
And  lieat  of  zeal— a  di'eadful  brotherhood," 

were  eager  for  the  plunder  of  more  Christian  cities  and  shrines, 
and  full  of  fanatic  confidence  in  the  invincibility  of  their  arms. 

Nor  were  the  chiefs 
Of  victory  less  assured,  by  long  success 
Elate,  and  proud  of  that  o'erwhelming  strength 
Which,  surely  they  beheved,  as  it  had  rolled 
Thus  far  uncheck'd,  would  roll  victorious  on, 
Till,  like  the  Orient,  the  subjected  West 
Should  bow  in  reverence  at  Mohammed's  name; 
And  pilgrims  from  remotest  Arctic  shores 
Tread  with  religious  feet  the  burning  sands 
Of  Araby  and  Mecca's  stony  soil. 

SoUTHEY's  Roderick. 

It  is  no*  only  by  the  modern  Christian  poet,  but  by  the  old 
Arabian  chroniclers  also,  that  these  feelings  of  ambition  and  arro- 
gance are  attributed  to  the  Moslems  who  had  overthrown  the 
Visigoth  power  in  Spain.  And  their  eager  expectations  of  new 
wars  were  excited  to  the  utmost  on  the  reappointment  by  the 
caliph  of  Abderrahman  Ibn  Abdillah  Alghafeki  to  the  government 
of  that  country,  a.d.  729,  which  restored  them  a  general  who  had 
signalized  his  skill  and  prowess  during  the  conquests  of  Africa 
and  Spain,  whose  ready  valor  and  generosity  had  made  him  the 
idol  of  the  troojis,  who  had  already  been  engaged  in  several  expe- 
ditions into  Gaul,  so  as  to  be  well  acquainted  with  the  national 
.character  and  tactics  of  the  Franks,  and  who  was  known  to  thirst, 


BATTLE  OF  TOURS.  143 

like  a  good  Moslem,  for  reTenge  for  the  slangliter  of  some  detacli- 
ments  of  the  True  Believers,  which  had  been  cut  off  on  the  north 
of  the  Pyrenees. 

In  addition  to  his  cardinal  military  virtues,  Abderrahman  is 
described  by  the  Arab  writers  as  a  model  of  integrity  and  jiistice. 
The  tirst  two  years  of  his  second  administration  in  Spain  were  oc- 
cupied in  severe  reforms  of  the  abuses  which  under  his  prede- 
cessors had  crept  into  the  system  of  government,  and  in  extensive 
preparations  for  his  intended  conquest  in  Gaul.  Besides  the 
troops  which  he  collected  from  his  province,  he  obtained  from 
Africa  a  large  body  of  chosen  Berber  cavalry,  officered  by  Arabs  of 
proved  skill  and  valor;  and  in  the  summer  of  732,  he  crossed  the 
Pyrenees  at  the  head  of  an  army  which  some  Arab  writers  rate  at 
eighty  thousand  strong,  while  some  of  the  Christian  chroniclers 
swell  its  numbers  to  many  hundreds  of  thousands  more.  Probably 
the  Arab  account  diminishes,  but  of  the  two  keeps  nearer  to  the 
truth.  It  was  from  this  formidable  host,  after  Eudes,  the  Count 
of  Aquitaine,  had  vainly  striven  to  check  it,  after  many  strong 
cities  had  fallen  before  it,  and  half  the  land  had  been  overrun, 
that  Gaiil  and  Christendom  were  at  last  resciied  by  the  strong  arm 
of  Prince  Charles,  who  acquired  a  surname,*  like  that  of  the  war- 
god  of  his  forefathers'  creed,  from  the  might  with  which  he  broke 
and  shattered  his  enemies  in  the  battle. 

The  Merovingian  kings  had  sunk  into  absolute  insignificance, 
and  had  become  mere  pujipets  of  royalty  before  the  eighth  cen- 
tury. Charles  Martel,  like  his  father,  Pepin  Heristal,  was  Duke 
of  the  Austrasian  Franks,  the  bravest  and  most  thoroughly  Ger- 
manic part  of  the  nation,  and  exercised,  in  the  name  of  the  titular 
king,  what  little  paramount  authority  the  turbulent  minor  rulers 
of  districts  and  towns  could  be  jjersuadedor  compelled  to  acknowl- 
edge. Engaged  with  his  national  competitors  in  perpetual  con- 
flicts for  power,  and  in  more  serious  struggles  for  safety  against 
the  fierce  tribes  of  the  unconverted  Frisians,  Bavarians,  Saxons, 
and  Thuringians,  who  at  that  epoch  assailed  with  peculiar  ferocity 
the  Christianized  Germans  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Rhine,  Charles 
Martel  added  experienced  skill  to  his  natural  courage,  and  he  had 
also  formed  a  militia  of  veterans  among  the  Franks.  Hallam  has 
thrown  out  a  doubt  whether,  in  our  admiration  of  his  victory  afc 
Tours,  we  do  not  judge  a  little  too  much  by  the  event,  and  whether 
there  was  not  rashness  in  his  risking  the  fate  of  France  on  the  re- 
sult of  a  general  battle  with  the  invaders.  But  when  we  remember 
that  Charles  had  no  standing  army,  and  the  independent  sjnrit 
of  the  Frank  warriors  wlio  followed  his  standard,  it  seems  most 
probable  that  it  was  not  in  his  i)ower  to  adojiit  the  cautioiis  policy 
of  watching  the  invaders,  and  wearing  out  their  strength  by  delay. 

*  Martel— The  Hammer.    See  the  Scandanavian  Sagas  for  an  accomitol 
Uxe  lavortte  weapon  of  Tlior. 


144  DECISIVE  BA  TTLES. 

So  c!vcn,dfiil  and  so  -widespreail  were  the  ravages  of  the  Saracenic 
light  cavalry  throughout  Gaiil,  that  it  must  have  been  imjiossible 
to  restrain  for  any  length  of  time  the  indignant  ardor  of  the 
Franks.  And,  even  if  Charles  could  have  persuaded  his  men  to 
look  tamely  on  while  the  Arabs  stormed  more  towns  and  desolated 
more  districts,  he  could  not  have  kept  an  army  together  when  the 
usual  jieriod  of  a  military  exjiedition  had  expired.  If,  indeed,  the 
Arab  account  of  the  disorganization  of  the  Moslem  forces  be  cor- 
rect, the  battle  was  as  well  timed  on  the  part  of  Charles,  as  it  was, 
beyond  all  question,  well  foiight. 

The  monkish  chroniclers,  from  whom  we  are  obliged  to  glean  a 
narrative  of  this  memorable  camiiaign,  bear  full  evidence  to  the 
terror  which  the  Saracen  invasion  inspired,  and  to  the  agony  of 
that  great  struggle.  The  Saracens,  say  they,  and  their  king,  who 
■was  called  Abdirames,  came  out  of  Sj^ain,  wath  all  their  wives,  and 
their  children,  and  their  substance,  in  such  great  multitudes  that 
no  man  could  reckon  or  estimate  them.  They  brought  with  them 
all  their  armor,  and  whatever  they  had,  as  if  they  were  thenceforth 
always  to  dwell  in  France.* 

"  Then  Abderrahman,  seeing  the  land  filled  with  the  multitude 
of  his  army,  pierces  through  the  mountains,  tramples  over  rough 
and  level  ground,  plunders  far  into  the  coiintry  of  the  Franks,  and 
smites  all  with  the  sword,  insomuch  that  when  Eudo  came  to  bat- 
tle with  him  at  the  Eivtr  Garonne,  and  tied  before  him,  God  alone 
knows  the  number  of  the  slain.  Then  Abderrahman  pursued 
after  Count  Eudo,  and  while  he  strives  to  spoil  and  burn  the  holy 
shrine  at  Tours,  he  encounters  the  chief  of  the  Austrasian  Franks, 
Charles,  a  man  of  war  from  his  youth  xiy>,  to  whom  Eudo  had  sent 
warning.  There  for  nearly  seven  days  they  strive  intensely,  and 
at  last  they  set  themselves  in  battle  array,  and  the  nations  of  the 
North  stanc.ing  firm  as  a  wall,  and  impenetrable  as  a  zone  of  ice, 
utterly  slay  the  Arabs  with  the  edge  of  the  sword,  "f 

The  European  writers  all  concur  in  speaking  of  the  fall  of 
Abderrahman  as  one  of  the  principal  caiises  of  the  defeat  of  the 
Arabs;  who,  according  to  one  writer,  alter  finding  that  their  leader 
was  slain,  dispersed  in  the  night,  to  the  agreeable  surjirise  of  the 
Christians,  who  expected  the  next  morning  to  see  them  issue  from 
their  tents  and  renew  the  combat.  One  monkish  chronicler  puts 
the  loss  of  the  Arabs  at  375,000  men,  while  he  says  that  only  1007 
Christians  fell;  a  disparity  of  loss  which  he  ftels  bound  to  account 
for  by  a  si^ecial  interposition,  of  Frovidence.     I  have  translated 

*  ' '  Lors  Issh-ent  d'Espaigne  li  Sarrazins,  et  \m  leur  Rol  qui  avoit  nom  Ab- 
dirames, et  ont  leur  fames  et  leur  enl'ans  et  toute  leur  substance  en  si  grand 
plenle  que  nus  ne  le  prevoit  nombrer  ne  estlmer :  tout  leur  liarnols  et  quan- 
ques  11  avoient  amenemeDt  avec  entz,  aussi  comme  si  lis  deussent  toujours 
mes  hablter  en  France.'' 

t  lunc  Abdinaliman.  multitudine  sui  exercltus  repletam  prosplciena 
terram,  etc.— Script.  Gat.  Franc  ,  p.  785. 


BATTLE  OF  TOUES.  145 

above  some  of  tlie  most  spirited  passages  of  these  writers  ;  but  it 
is  impossible  to  collect  from  them  any  thing  like  a  full  or  aiithen- 
tic  description  of  the  great  battle  itself,  or  of  the  operations  which 
preceded  and  followed  it. 

Though,  however,  we  may  have  cause  to  regret  the  meagerness 
and  doubtful  character  of  these  narratives,  we  have  the  great  ad- 
vantage ofbeing  able  to  compare  the  accounts  given  in  Abdorrah- 
man's  expedition  by  the  national  writeis  of  each  side.  This  is  a 
benefit  which  the  inquirer  into  antiquity  so  seldom  can  obtain, 
that  the  fact  of  possessing  it,  in  the  case  of  the  battle  of  Tours, 
("makes  us  think  the  historical  testimony  respecting  that  great 
'  event  more  certain  and  satisfactory  than  is  the  case  in  many  other 
instances,  where  we  possess  abundant  details  respecting  military 
exploits,  but  where  those  details  come  to  us  fi-om  the  annalist  of 
one  nation  only,  and  where  we  have,  consequentlj%  no  safeguard 
against  the  exaggerations,  the  distortions,  and  the  fictions  which 
nitioual  vanity  has  so  often  put  forth  in  the  garb  and  under  the 
title  of  history.  The  Arabian  writers  who  recorded  the  conquests 
and  wars  of  their  countrymen  in  Sjiain  have  narrated  also  the  ex- 
pedition into  Gaul  of  their  great  emir,  and  his  defeat  and  death 
near  Tours,  in  battle  with  the  host  of  the  Franks  under  King 
Caldus,  the  name  into  which  they  metamorphose  Charles  Martel.* 

They  tell  us  how  there  was  a  war  between  the  count  of  the 
Frankish  frontier  and  the  Moslems,  and  how  the  count  gathered 
together  all  his  peoiile,  and  fought  for  a  time  with  doubtful  suc- 
cess. "  But,''  say  the  Arabian  chroniclers,  "Abderrahman  drove 
them  back;  and  the  men  of  Abderrahman  were  pufled  u])  in  spirit 
by  their  repeated  siaccesses,  and  they  were  full  of  trust  in  the  valor 
and  the  practice  in  war  of  their  emir.  So  the  Moslems  smote 
their  enemies,  and  passed  the  Eiver  Garonne,  and  laid  waste  the 
country,  and  took  captives  without  niimber.  And  that  army  went 
through  all  places  like  a  desolating  storm.  Prosperity  made  these 
■warriors  insatiable.  At  the  passage  of  the  river,  Abderrahman 
overthrew  the  coi;nt,  and  the  count  retired  into  his  stronghold, 
but  the  Moslems  fought  against  it,  and  entered  it  by  force  and 
slew  the  count;  for  every  thing  gave  way  to  their  cimeters,  which 
were  the  robbers  of  lives.  All  the  nations  of  the  Franks  trembled 
at^that  terrible  army,  and  they  betook  them  to  their  king  Caldus, 
and  told  him  of  the  havoc  made  by  the  Moskin  horsemen,  and 
how  they  rode  at  their  will  through  all  the  land  of  Narbonne, 
Toulouse,  and  Bordeaux,  and  they  told  the  king  of  the  death  of 

*  The  Arabian  clironicles  were  compiled  and  translated  Into  Spanish 
by  Don  Jose  Antonio  (onilo,  lu  liis  "  liistorla  de  la  Doniinailoa  Ue  los 
Arabos  en  Kspana.' i)Ubllsbc(l  at  Madrid  lu  IS'iO.  CoiKle's  ]ilan,  wblch  I 
liavc  endcavorffl  to  follow,  was  to  preserve  both  the  i^WW.  and  siiirit  of  his 
Orl  -ntal  authorities,  so  tliat  we  find  in  his  pages  a  genuine  >SaraconIc  nar- 
rative of  the  wars  in  Western  Europe  between  the  tiohammedans  and  the 
Christians. 


146  DECISIVE  BATTIES. 

their  coxiBt  Then  the  king  bade  them  be  of  good  cheer,  and 
offered  to  aid  them.  And  in  the  11-lth  year*  he  nionnted  his 
horse,  and  he  took  with  him  a  host  that  could  not  be  niimVjcrcd, 
and  went  against  the  Moslems.  And  he  came  npon  them  at  the 
great  city  of  Tours.  And  Abderrahman  and  other  prudent  cava- 
liers saw  the  disorder  of  the  Moslem  troops,  who  were  loaded  with 
spoil;  but  they  did  not  venture  to  displease  the  soldiers  by  order- 
ing them  to  abandon  every  thing  except  their  arms  and  war-horses. 
And  Abderrahman  trusted  in  the  valor  of  his  soldiers,  and  in  the 
good  fortune  which  had  ever  attended  him.  But  (the  Arab  writer 
remarks)  such  defect  of  discipline  always  is  fatal  to  armies.  So 
Abderrahman  and  his  host  attacked  Tours  to  gain  still  more  spoil, 
and  they  fought  against  it  so  fiercely  that  they  stormed  the  city 
almost  before  the  eyes  of  the  army  that  came  to  save  it;  and  the 
fury  and  the  cruelty  of  the  Moslems  toward  the  inhabitants  of  the 
city  was  like  the  fury  and  cruelty  of  raging  tigers.  It  was  manifest," 
adds  the  Arab,  "that  God's  chastisement  was  sure  to  follow  such 
excesses;  and  Fortune  thereuj)on  turned  her  back  upon  the  Mos- 
lems. 

'Near  the  Eiver  Owar,t  the  two  great  hosts  of  the  two  languages 
and  the  two  creeds  were  set  in  array  against  each  other.  The 
hearts  of  Abderrahman,  his  captains,  and  his  men,  were  filled 
with  wrath  and  pride,  and  they  were  the  first  to  begin  the  fight. 
The  Moslem  horsemen  dashed  fierce  andfreqiient  forward  against 
the  battalions  of  the  Franks,  who  resisted  manfullj^  and  many 
fell  dead  on  either  side  until  the  going  down  of  the  sun.  Night 
parted  the  two  armies  ;  but  in  the  gray  of  the  morning  the  Mos- 
lems returned  to  the  battle.  Their  cavaliers  had  soon  hewn  their 
way  into  the  center  of  the  Christian  host.  But  many  of  the  Mos- 
lems were  fearful  for  the  safety  of  the  spoil  which  they  had  stored 
in  their  tents,  and  a  false  cry  arose  in  their  ranks  that  some  of  the 
enemy  were  plundering  the  camp  ;  whereupon  several  squadrons 
of  the  Moslem  horsemen  rode  off  to  protect  their  tents.  But  it 
seemed  as  if  they  fled  ;  and  all  the  host  was  troubled.  And  while 
Abderrahman  strove  to  check  their  tumult,  and  to  lead  them  back 
to  battle,  the  warriors  of  the  Franks  came  around  him,  and  he 
was  pierced  through  with  many  spears,  so  that  he  died.  Then  all 
the  host  fled  before  the  enemy,  and  many  died  in  the  flight.  This 
deadly  defeat  of  the  Moslems,  and  the  loss  of  the  great  leader  and 
good  cavalier  Abderrahman,  took  place  in  the  hundred  and  fif- 
teenth j'ear." 

It  would  be  difficult  to  expect  from  an  adversary  a  more  explicit 
confession  of  having  been  thoroughly  vanquished  than  the  Arabs 
here  accord  to  the  Euroj^eans.  The  points  on  which  their  narra- 
tive differs  from  those  of  the  Christians — as  to  how  many  days  the 
conflict  lasted,  whether  the  assailed  city  was  actually  rescxied  or 

*  Of  tlie  Heglra.  t  Pix)bahly  tne  Loire. 


SYNOPSIS  OF  EVENTS,  ETC.  147 

not,  and  the  like — are  of  little  moment  compared  with  the  admit- 
ted great  fact  that  there  was  a  decisive  trial  of  strength  between 
Frank  and  Saracen,  in  which  the  former  conquered.  The  endur- 
ing importance  of  the  battle  of  Tours  in  the  eyes  of  the  Moslems 
is  attested  not  only  by  the  expressions  of  "  the  deadly  battle  "  and 
"the  disgraceful  overthrow  "  which  their  writers  constantly  em- 
ploy when  referring  to  it,  but  also  by  the  fact  that  no  more  serious 
attempts  at  conqiiest  beyond  the  Pyrenees  were  made  by  the 
Saracens.  Charles  Martel,  and  his  son  and  grandson,  were  left  at 
leisure  to  consolidate  and  extend  their  power.  The  new  Christian 
Eoman  empire  of  the  West,  which  the  genius  of  Charlemagne 
founded,  and  throughout  which  his  iron  will  imposed  peace  on 
the  old  anarchy  of  creeds  and  races,  did  not  indeed  retain  its  in- 
tegrity after  its  great  ruler's  death .  Fresh  troubles  came  over 
Europe  :  but  Christendom,  though  disiinited  was  safe.  The  prog- 
ress of  civilization,  and  the  development  of  the  nationalities  and 
governments  of  modern  Europe,  from  that  time  forth  went  forward 
in  not  uninterrupted,  but  ultimately  certain  career. 


Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  op  Totjes,  a.d.  732, 
AND  THE  Battle  of  Hastings,  a.d.  1066. 

A.D.  768-814.  Eeign  of  Charlemagne.  This  monarch  has  justly 
been  termed  the  principal  regenerator  of  Western  Europe,  after 
the  destruction  of  the  lloman  Empire.  The  early  death  of  his 
brother  Carloman  left  him  sole  master  of  the  dominion  of  the 
Franks,  which,  by  a  succession  of  victorious  wars,  he  enlarged  into 
the  new  empire  of  the  West.  He  conquered  the  Lombards,  and 
re-established  the  pope  at  Fiome,  who,  in  return,  acknowledged 
Charles  as  suzerain  of  Italy.  And  in  the  year  800,  Leo  HI.,  in  the 
name  of  the  Roman  people,  solemnly  crowned  Charlemagne  at 
Rome  as  emperor  of  the  Eoman  empire  of  the  West.  In  Spain, 
Charlemagne  ruled  the  country  between  the  Pyrenees  and  the 
Ebro  ;  but  his  most  important  conquests  were  effected  on  the  east- 
ern side  of  his  original  kingdom,  over  the  Sclavonians  of  Bohemia, 
the  Avars  of  Pannonia,  and  over  the  previously  uncivilized  Ger- 
man tribes,  who  had  remained  in  their  fatherland.  The  old 
Saxons  were  bis  most  obstinate  antagonists,  and  his  wars  with 
them  lasted  for  thirty  years.  Under  him  the  greater  part  of  Ger- 
many was  compulsorily  civilized  and  converted  from  paganism  to 
Christianity.  His  empire  extended  eastward  as  far  as  the  Elbe,  the 
Saale,  the  Bohemian  INIountains,  and  a  line  drawn  from  thence  cross- 
ing the  Danube  above  Vienna,  and  prolonged  to  the  Gulf  of  Istria.* 

*  naUam-s  "  Middle  Ages." 


148  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

Througliontthis  vast  assemblage  of  provinces,  Charlemagne  estab- 
lished an  organized  and  firm  government.  But  it  is  not  as  a  mere 
conqueror  that  he  demands  admiration.  "In  a  life  restlessly  ac- 
tive, we  see  him  reforming  the  coinage  and  establishing  the  legal 
divisions  of  money ;  gathering  about  him  the  learned  of  every 
country  ;  founding  schools  and  collecting  libraries  ;  interferring, 
with  the  air  of  a  king,  in  religous  controversies  ;  attempting,  for 
the  sake  of  commerce,  the  magnificent  enterprise  of  uniting  the 
Ehine  and  the  Danube,  and  meditating  to  mold  the  discordant 
code  of  lloman  and  barbarian  laws  into  a  uniform  system."* 

814-888.  Repeated  partitions  of  the  empire  and  civil  wars  be- 
tween Charlemagne's  descendants.  Ultimately  the  kingdom  of 
France  is  finally  separated  from  Germany  and  Italy.  In  962,  Otho 
the  Great  of  Germany  revives  the  imjierial  dignity. 

827.  Egbert,  king  of  Wessex,  acquires  the  supremacy  over  the 
other  Anglo-Saxon  kingdoms. 

832.  The  first  Danish  squadron  attacks  part  of  the  English 
coast.  The  Danes,  or  Northmen,  had  begun  their  ravages  in 
France  a  few  years  earlier.  For  two  centuries  Scandinavia  sends 
out  fleet  after  fleet  of  sea-rovers,  who  desolate  all  the  western  king- 
doms of  Europe,  and  in  many  cases  effect  permanent  conquests. 

871-900.  Reign  of  Alfred  in  England.  After  a  long  and  varied 
struggle,  he  rescues  England  from  the  Danish  invaders. 

911.  The  French  king  cedes  Neustria  to  Hrolf  the  Northman. 
Hrolf  (or  Duke  RoUo,  as  he  thenceforth  was  termed  )  and  his  army 
of  Scandinavian  warriors  become  the  ruling  class  of  the  population 
of  the  province,  which  is  called  after  them,  Normandy. 

1016.  Four  knights  from  Normandy,  who  had  been  on  a  pil- 
grimage to  the  Holy  Land,  while  returning  through  Italy,  head  the 
jDeople  of  Salerno  in  repelling  an  attack  of  a  band  of  Saracen  cor- 
sairs. In  the  next  year  many  adventurers  from  Normandy  settle 
in  Italy,  where  they  conquer  Apulia  (1040),  and  afterward  (1060) 
Sicily. 

10i7.  Canute,  king  of  Denmark,  becomes  king  of  England, 
On  the  death  of  the  last  of  his  sons,  in  1041,  the  Saxon  line  is  re- 
stored, and  Edward  the  Confessor  (who  had  been  bred  in  the  court 
of  the  Duke  of  Normandy)  is  called  by  the  English  to  the  throne  of 
this  island,  as  the  representative  of  the  house  of  Cerdic. 

1035.  Duke  Robert  of  Normandy  dies  on  his  return  from  a  pil- 
grimage to  the  Holy  Land,  and  his  son  William  ( afterward  the 
conqueror  of  England)  succeeds  to  the  dukedom  of  Normandy. 

*  Hallam,  ut  sunra. 


BATTLE  OF  IIASTIKOS.  149 

CHAPTER  Vni. 

THE  BATTLE    OF    HASTINGS,  A.D.   1060. 

Eis  vos  la  Batallle  assemblee,- 
Dune  encore  est  grant  renomee. 

Roman  de  liou,  13,183. 

Arletta's  pretty  feet  twinkling  in  the  brook  made  her  the  mother 
of  William  the  Conqueror.  Had  she  not  thus  fascinated  Duke 
Eobert  the  Liberal  of  Normandy,  Harold  would  not  have  fallen  at 
Hastings,  no  Anglo-Norman  dynasty  would  have  arisen,  no  British 
.empire.  The  reflection  is  Sir  Francis  Palgrave's;*  and  it  is  em- 
phaticly  true.  If  any  one  should  write  a  history  of  "  Decisive  loves 
that  have  materially  influenced  the  drama  of  the  world  in  all  its 
subsequent  scenes,"  the  daughter  of  the  tanner  of  Falaise  would 
deserve  a  conspicuous  place  in  its  pages.  Bvit  it  is  her  son,  the 
victor  of  Hastings,  who  is  now  the  object  of  our  attention  ;  and  no 
one  who  appreciates  the  influence  of  England  and  her  empire  uijon 
the  destinies  of  the  world,  will  ever  rank  that  victory  as  one  of 
secondary  importance. 

It  is  true  that  in  the  last  century  some  writers  of  eminence  on 
our  history  and  laws  mentioned  the  Norman  Conquest  in  terms 
from  which  it  might  be  supposed  that  the  battle  of  Hastings  led  to 
little  more  than  the  substitution  of  one  royal  family  on  the  throne 
of  this  country  and  to  the  garbling  and  changing  of  some  of  our 
laws  through  the  "cunning  of  the  Norman  lawyers."  But,  at  least 
since  the  appearance  of  the  work  of  Augustin  Thierry  on  the  Nor- 
man Conquest,  these  forensic  fallacies  have  been  exploded.  Thi- 
erry made  his  readers  keenly  appreciate  the  magnitude  of  that 
political  and  social  catastrophe.  He  depicted  in  vivid  colors  the 
atrocious  cruelties  of  the  conquerors,  and  the  sweeiDing  and  endur- 
ing innovations  that  they  wrought,  involving  the  overthrow  of  the 
ancient  constitution,  as  well  as  of  the  last  of  the  Saxon  kings.  In 
his  pages  we  see  new  tribunals  and  tenures  superseding  the  old 
ones,  new  divisions  of  race  and  class  introduced,  whole  districts 
devastated  to  gratify  the  vengeance  or  the  caprice  of  the  new  tyrant, 
the  greater  part  of  the  lands  of  the  English  confiscated  and  divided 
among  aliens,  the  very  name  of  Englishmen  turned  into  a  reproach,' 
the  English  language  rejected  as  servile  and  barbarous,  and  all  the 
high  places  in  church  and  state  for  upward  of  a  century  lillcd 
exclusively  by  men  of  foreign  race. 

No  less  true  than  eloquent  is  Thierry's  summing  up  of  the  social 
effects  of  the  Norman  Conquest  on  the  generation  that  witnessed 
it,  and  on  many  of  their  successors.     He  tells  his  reader  that  "if 

*  "  History  of  Normandy  and  England,"  vol.  1.,  p.  526. 


150  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

be  woTald  form  a  just  idea  of  England  conquered  by  "William  of 
Normandy,  he  must  figure  to  himself — not  a  mere  change  of  polit- 
ical rule — not  the  triumph  of  one  candidate  over  another  candidate 
— of  the  man  of  one  party  over  the  man  of  another  party,  but  the 
intrusion  of  one  people  into  the  bosom  of  another  jjeople — the 
violent  placing  of  one  society  over  another  society  which  it  came 
to  destroy,  and  the  scattered  fragments  of  which  it  retained  only 
as  personal  property,  or  (to  use  the  words  of  an  old  act)  as  'the 
clothing  of  the  soil ;'  he  must  not  picture  to  himself  on  the  other 
hand,  William,  a  king  and  a  despot — on  the  other,  subjects  of 
^(William's,  high  and  low,  rich  and  poor,  all  inhabiting  England,  and 
consequently  all  English  ;  he  must  imagine  two  nations,  one  of 
•which  William  is  a  member  and  the  chief — two  nations  ■which  (if 
the  term  must  be  used)  were  both  subject  to  William,  but  as  applied 
to  which  the  word  has  quite  different  senses,  meaning,  in  the  one 
case,  subordinate — in  the  other,  subjugated.  He  must  consider  that 
there  are  two  countries,  two  soils,  inchided  in  the  same  geograph- 
ical circumference — that  of  the  Normans,  rich  and  free  ;  that  of  the 
Saxons,  poor  and  serving,  vexed  by  reni  and  ioilage:  the  former 
full  of  spacious  mansions,  and  walled  and  moated  castles  ;  the 
latter  scattered  over  with  huts  and  straw,  and  ruined  hovels  :  that 
peopled  with  the  happy  and  the  idle — with  men  of  the  army  and 
of  the  court — with  knights  and  nobles  ;  this  with  men  of  pain  and 
labor — with  farmers  and  artisans  :  on  the  one  eide,  luxury  and 
insolence;  on  the  other,  misery  and  envy — not  the  envy  of  the  poor 
at  the  sight  of  opulence  they  cannot  reach,  but  the  envy  of  the 
despoiled  when  in  the  presence  of  the  despoilers." 

Perhaps  the  effect  of  Thierry's  work  has  been  to  cast  into  the 
shade  the  ultimate  good  effects  on  England  of  the  Norman  Conquest. 
Yet  these  are  as  undeniable  as  are  the  miseries  which  that  conquest 
inflicted  on  our  Saxon  ancestors  from  the  time  of  the  battle  of 
Hastings  to  the  time  of  the  signing  of  the  Great  Charter  at  Eunny- 
mede.  That  last  is  the  true  epoch  of  English  nationality  ;  it  is  the 
epoch  when  Anglo-Norman  and  Anglo-Saxon  ceased  to  keep  aloof 
from  each  other — the  one  in  haughty  scorn,  the  other  in  sullen 
abhorrence  ;  and  when  all  the  free  men  of  the  land,  whether  ba- 
rons, knights,  yoemen,  or  burghers,  combined  to  lay  the  foundations 
of  English  freedom. 

I  Our  Norman  barons  were  the  chiefs  of  that  primary  constitutional 
movement  ;  those  "iron  barons,"  whom  Chatham  has  so  nobly 
ei;logized.  This  alone  shoiild  make  England  remember  her  obli- 
gations to  the  Norman  Conquest,  which  planted  far  and  wide,  as  a 
dominant  class  in  her  land,  a  martial  nobility  of  the  bravest  and 
most  energetic  race  that  ever  existed. 

It  may  sound  parodoxical,  but  it  is  in  reality  no  exaggeration  to 
say,  with  Guizot,*  that  England's  liberties  are  owing  to  her  having 

*  "  Essals  sur  rHlstoire  de  France,"  p.  27B,  etseq. 


BATTLE   OF  HASTINGS.  151 

been  conquered  by  the  Normans.  It  is  true  that  the  Saxon  insti- 
tutions w^e  the  primitive  cradle  of  English  liberty,  but  by  their 
own  intrinsic  force  they  could  never  have  founded  the  enduring 
free  English  Constitution.  It  was  the  Conquest  that  infused  into 
them  a  new  virtue,  and  the  political  liberties  of  England  arose  from 
the  situation  in  which  the  Anglo-Saxon  and  the  Anglo-Norman  popu- 
lations and  laws  found  themselves  placed  relatively  to  each  other 
in  this  island.  The  state  of  England  under  her  last  Anglo-Saxon 
kings  closely  resembled  the  state  of  France  under  the  last  Carlo- 
vingian  and  the  first  Capetian  princes.  The  crown  was  feeble,  the 
great  nobles  were  strong  and  turbulent  ;  and  although  there  was 
more  national  unity  in  Saxon  Englr.nd  than  in  France — although 
the  English  local  free  institutions  had  more  reality  and  energy  than 
was  the  case  with  any  thing  analogous  to  them  on  the  Continent  in 
*he  eleventh  century,  still  the  ijrobabilty  is  that  the  Saxon  system 
of  polity,  if  left  to  itself,  would  have  fallen  into  utter  confusion, 
Dut  of  which  would  have  arisen,  first,  an  aristocratic  hierarchy  ; 
.\ike  that  which  arose  in  France;  next,  an  absolute  monarchy, 
«\nd,  finally,  a  series  of  anarchial  revolutions,  such  as  we  now  be- 
Viold  around,  but  not  among  us.* 

The  latest  conquerors  of  this  island  were  also  the  bravest  and  the 
best.  I  do  not  except  even  the  Romans.  And,  in  spite  of  our 
sympathies  with  Harold  and  Hereward,  and  our  abhorrence  of  the 
founder  of  the  New  Forest  and  the  desolator  of  Yorkshire,  wemiist 
confess  the  superiority  of  the  Normans  to  the  Anglo-Saxons  and 
Anglo-Danes,  whom  they  met  here  in  lOGB,  as  well  as  to  the  degen- 
erate Frank  noblesse,  and  the  crushed  and  servile  Romanesque 
provincials,  from  whom,  in  912,  they  had  wrested  the  district  in  the 
north  of  Gaul,  which  still  bears  the  name  of  Normandy. 

It  was  not  merely  by  extreme  valor  and  ready  subordination  to 
military  discipline  that  the  Normans  were  pre-eminent  among  all 
the  conquering  races  of  the  Gothic  stock,  but  also  by  an  instinctive 
faculty  of  appreciating  and  adopting  the  superior  civilizations 
which  they  encountered.  The  Duke  Hollus  and  his  Scandinavian 
warriors  readily  embraced  the  croed,  the  language,  the  laws,  and 
the  arts,  which  France,  in  those  troubled  and  evil  times  with  which 
the  Capetian  dynasty  commenced,  still  inherited  from  imperial 
Eome  and  imperial  Charlemagne.  "lis  adopterent  les  usages,  les 
devoirs,  les  subordination  que  les  capitulaires  dea  empereurs  et 
les  rois  sevoient  institues.  IMais  ce  qu'ils  appoiierent  dans  I'appli- 
cation  de  ces  lois,  ce  fut  I'esprit  de  vie,  I'espritde  liberie,  I'habitude 
de  la  subordination  militaire,  et  I'intelligence  d'un  etat  politique 
qui  conciliat  la  surete  de  tous  aveo  I'independance  de  chacun."f 
So,  also,  in  all  chivalric  feelings,  in  enthusiastic  religious  zeal,  in 
almost  idolatrous  respect  to  females  of  gentle  birth,  in  generous 

*  See  Gulzot,  ut  supra. 

t  bismondi,  "  Hlstolie  de  Fransals, "  vol.  lil.,  p.  174. 


152  BECISfVE  BATTLED. 

fondness  for  tlie  nascent  poetry  of  the  time,  in  a  keen  intellectnal 
lelisli  for  subtle  thought  and  disputation,  in  a  taste  for  architec- 
lural  ruagniticence,  and  all  courtly  refinement  and  pageantry. 
The  Normans  %vero  the  Paladiusof  the  world.  Their  brilliant 
•qualities  were  sullied  by  many  darker  traits  of  pride,  of  merciless 
cruelty,  and  of  brutal  contempt  for  the  industry,  the  rights,  and 
/the  feelings  of  all  whom  they  considered  the  lower  classes  of  man- 
kind. 

Their  gradual  blending  with  the  Saxons  softened  these  harsh 
and  evil  points  of  their  national  character;  and  in  retiirn  they 
fired  the  duller  Saxon  mass  with  a  new  spirit  of  animation  and 
power.  As  Campbell  boldly  expressed  it,  "  They  liiijh-mHllcd  the 
hlood  of  our  veins."  Small  had  been  the  tigure  which  England 
made  in  the  world  before  the  coming  over  of  the  Normans 
and  without  them  she  never  would  have  emerged  from  insigniti- 
cance.  The  authority  of  Gibbon  may  be  taken  as  decisive  when 
lie  pronounces  that  "  assuredly  England  was  a  gainer  by  the  Con- 
quest." And  we  may  proudly  adopt  the  comment  of  the  French- 
man Eapin,  who,  writing  of  the  battle  of  Hastings  more  than  ti, 
century  ago,  speaks  of  the  revolution  effected  by  it  as  "the  first 
step  by  which  England  is  arrived  to  the  height  of  grandeur  and 
glory  we  behold  it  in  at  present."" 

The  interest  of  this  eventful  struggle,  by  which  William  of  Nor- 
mandy became  king  of  England,  is  materially  enhanced  by  the 
high  personal  character  of  the  competitors  for  our  crown.  They 
were  three  in  number.  One  was  a  foreign  prince,  from  the 
norlh;  one  was  a  foreign  prince,  from  the  south;  and  one  was  a 
native  hero  of  the  land.  Harald  Hardrada,  the  strongest  and 
the  most  chilvalric  of  the  kings  of  Norway,!  was  the  first; 
Duke  William  of  Normandy  was  the  second  ;  and  the  Saxon 
Harold,  the  son  of  Earl  Godwin,  was  the  third.  Never  was  a  nobler 
prize  sought  by  nobler  champions,  or  striven  for  more  gallantly. 
The  Saxon  triumphed  over  the  Norwegian,  and  the  Norman  tri- 
umphed over  the  Saxon  ;  but  Norse  valor  was  never  more  con- 
piciious  than  when  Harald  Hardrada  and  his  host  fought  and  fell 
at  Stamford  Bridge  ;  nor  did  Saxons  ever  face  their  foes  more 
bravely  than  our  Harold  and  his  men  on  the  fatal  day  of  Hastings. 

During  the  reign  of  King  Edward  the  Confessor  over  this  land, 
I  the  claims  of  the  Norwegian  king  to  our  crown  were  little  thought 
of;  and  though  Hardrada's  predecessor,  King  Magnus  of  Norway, 
had  on  one  occasion  asserted  that,  by  virtue  of  a  compact  with  our 
former  king,  Hardicanute,  he  was  entitled  to  the  English  throne, 
no  serioiis  attempt  had  been  made  to  enforce  his  pretensions. 
But  the  rivalry  of  the  Saxon  Harold  and  the  Norman  William  was 

*  Bapin,   "  Ilist.  England,"  p.    164.    See,  also,   on  tliis  point,    Sharon 
Turner,  vol.  iv.,  p.  72. 
t  see  In  Snorre  the  Saga  Heraldl  Hardrada. 


BATTLE  OF  HASTINGS.  153 

foreseen  and  bewailed  hv  the  Confessor,  who  waa  believed  to 
have  predicted  on  his  death-bed  the  calamities  that  were  impend- 
ing over  England.  Duke  "William  was  King  Edward's  kinsman. 
Harold  was  the  head  of  the  most  ijowerfnl  noble  house,  next  to  the 
royal  blood,  in  England  ;  and,  jiersonally,  he  was  the  bravest  and 
most  popi;lar  chieftain  in  the  hmd.  King  Edward  was  childless,  and 
the  nearest  collateral  heir  was  a  puny  unpromising  boy.  England 
had  suffered  too  severely,  during  royal  minorities,  fo  make  the  ac- 
cession of  Edgar  Atheling  desirable;  and  long  before  King  Edward's 
death.  Earl  Harold  was  the  destined  king  of  the  nation's  choice, 
though  the  favor  of  the  Confessor  was  believed  to  lead  toward  the 
Norman  dnke. 

A  little  time  before  the  death  of  King  Edward,  Harold  was  in 
Normandy.  The  causes  of  the  voyage  of  the  Saxon  earl  to  the 
Continent  are  doubtful;  but  the  fact  of  his  having  been,  in  1065, 
at  the  ducal  court,  and  in  the  power  of  his  rival,  is  indisputable. 
William  made  skilful  and  unscrupulous  use  of  the  opportunity. 
Though  Harold  was  treated  with  outward  courtesy  and  friend- 
ship, he  was  made  fully  aware  that  his  liberty  and  life  dej^ended 
on  his  compliance  with  the  ditke's  requests.  William  said  to  him 
in  apparent  confidence  and  cordiality,  "When  King  Edward  and 
I  once  lived  like  brothers  under  the  same  roof,  he  promised  that 
if  ever  he  became  King  of  England,  he  would  make  me  heir  to 
his  throne.  Harold,  I  wish  that  thou  wouldst  assist  me  to  realize 
this  promise."  Harold  replied  with  expressions  of  assent,  and 
further  agreed,  at  William's  request,  to  marry  William's  daughter, 
Adela,  and  to  send  over  his  own  sister  to  be  married  to  one  of 
William's  barons.  The  crafty  Norman  was  not  content  with  this 
extorted  promise;  he  determined  to  bind  Harold  by  a  more 
solemn  pledge,  the  breach  of  which  would  be  a  weight  on  the 
spirit  of  the  gallant  Saxon,  and  a  discouragement  to  others  from 
adopting  his  cause.  Before  a  full  assembly  of  the  Norman  barons, 
Harold  was  required  to  do  homage  to  Duke  William,  as  the  heir 
apparent  to  the  English  crown.  Kneeling  down,  Harold  placed 
his  hands  betM'een  those  of  the  duke,  and  repeated  the  solemn 
form  by  which  he  acknowledged  the  di\ke  as  his  lord,  and  prom- 
ised to  him  fealty  and  true  service.  But  William  exacted  more. 
He  had  caused  all  the  bones  and  relics  of  saints,  that  were  pre- 
served in  the  Norman  monasteries  and  churches,  to  be  collected 
into  a  chest,  which  was  placed  in  the  council-room,  covered  over 
•with  a  cloth  of  gold.  On  the  chest  of  relics,  which  were  thus 
concealed,  was  laid  a  missal.  The  dtike  then  solemnly  addressed 
his  titular  guest  and  real  captive,  and  said  to  him,  "Harold,  I 
require  thee,  before  this  noble  assembly,  to  confirm  by  oath  the  ' 
promises  which  tlioii  hast  made  me,  to  assist  me  in  obtaining  the 
crown  of  England  after  King  Edward's  death,  to  man-y  my 
daughter  Adela,  and  to  send  me  thy  sister,  that  I  may  give  her  in 
marriage  to   one  of  my  barons."     Harold,  once   more  taken  by 


154  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

snrprise,  and  not  able  to  deny  his  former  words,  approached  the 
missal,  and  laid  his  hand  on  it,  not  knowinp;  that  the  chest  of 
relics  was  beneath.  The  old  Norman  chronicler,  who  describes 
the  scene  most  minutely,*  says,  when  Harold  placed  his  hand  on 
it,  the  hand  trembled,  and  the  flesh  quivered;  but  he  swore,  and 
promised  upon  his  oath  to  take  Ele  [Adela]  to  wife,  and  to  deliver 
tip  England  to  the  duke  and  thereunto  to  do  all  in  his  power, 
according  to  his  might  and  wit,  after  the  death  of  Edward,  if  he 
himself  should  live;  so  help  him  God.  Many  cried,  "God  grant 
it!"  and  when  Harold  rose  from  his  knees,  the  duke  made  him 
stand  close  to  the  chest,  and  took  off  the  pall  that  had  covered  it 
and  showed  Harold  upon  what  holy  relics  he  had  sworn;  and 
Harold  was  sorely  alarmed  at  the  sight. 

Harold  was  soon  after  i)ermitted  to  return  to  England;  and  after 
a  short  interval,  during  which  he  distinguished  himself  by  the 
wisdom  and  humanity  with  which  he  pacified  some  formidable 
tumults  of  the  Anglo-Danes  in  Northumbria,  he  found  himself 
called  on  to  decide  whether  he  would  keep  the  oath  which  the  Nor- 
man had  obtained  from  him,  or  mount  the  vacant  throne  of  England 
in  compliance  with  the  nation's  choice.  King  Edward  the  Con- 
fessor died  on  the  5th  of  January,  1066,  and  on  the  following  day 
an  assembly  of  the  thanes  and  prelates  present  in  London,  and  of 
the  citizens  of  the  metropolis,  declared  that  Harold  should  be 
their  king.  It  was  reported  that  the  dying  Edward  had  nominated 
him  as  his  successor.  But  the  sense  which  his  countrymen  enter- 
tained of  his  pre-eminent  merit  was  the  true  fo^^ndation  of  his  title 
to  the  crown.  Harold  resolved  to  disregatrd  the  oath  which  he 
made  in  Normandy  as  violent  and  void,  and  on  the  7th  day  of 
that  January  he  was  anointed  King  of  England,  and  received  from 
the  archbishop's  hands  the  golden  crown  and  sce^Dter  of  England, 
and  also  an  ancient  national  symbol,  a  weighty  battle-ax.  He  had 
truly  deej)  and  speedy  need  of  this  significant  part  of  the  insignia 
of  Saxon  royalty. 

A  messenger  from  Normandy  soon  arrived  to  remind  Harold  of 
the  oath  which  he  had  sworn  to  the  duke  "with  his  mouth,  and  his 
hand  upon  good  and  holy  relics."  "  It  is  true,"  replied  the  Saxon 
king,  "that  I  took  an  oath  to  William;  biit  I  took  it  under  con- 
straint: I  promised  what  did  not  belong  to  me — what  I  could  not 
in  any  way  hold:  my  royalty  is  not  my  own;  I  could  not  lay  it  down 
against  the  will  of  the  country,  nor  can  I,  against  the  will  of  the 
country,  take  a  foreign  wife.  As  for  my  sister,  whom  the  duke 
claims  that  he  may  marry  her  to  one  of  his  chiefs,  she  has  died 
within  the  j'ear;  would  he  have  me  send  her  corpse?" 

William  sent  another  message,  which  met  with  a  similar  answer; 
and  then  the  duke  published  far  and  wide  through  Christendom 
what  he  termed  the  perjiiry  and  bad  faith  of  his  rival,  and  pro- 

*  Wace,  "Roman  de  Ecu."    I  have  nearly  followed  his  words. 


BATTLE  OF  HASTINGS.  155 

claimed  his  intention  of  asserting  his  rights  by  the  sword,  before 
the  year  should  expire,  and  of  pursuing  and  punishing  the  per- 
jurer even  in  those  i^laces  where  he  thought  he  stood  most  strongly 
and  most  securely. 

Before,  however,  he  commenced  hostilities,  William,  with  deep- 
laid  policy,  submitted  bis  claims  to  the  decision  of  the  pope. 
Harold  refused  to  acknowledge  this  tribunal,  or  to  answer  before 
an  Italian  j^riest  for  his  title  as  an  English  king.  After  a  formal 
examination  of  'William's  complaints  by  the  pope  and  the  cardi- 
nals, it  -was  solemnly  adjudged  at  Rome  that  England  belonged  to 
the  Norman  di;ke,  and  a  banner  was  sent  to  "\Villiam  from  the 
Holy  See,  which  the  pope  himself  had  consecrated,  and  blessed 
for  the  invasion  of  this  island.  The  clergy  throughout  the  Conti- 
nent were  now  assiduous  and  energetic  in  preaching  up  William's 
enterprise  as  i^ndertaken  in  the  cause  of  God.  Besides  these  spirit- 
ual arms  (tiie  etfect  of  which  in  the  eleventh  century  must  not  be 
measured  by  the  philosophy  or  inditferentism  of  the  nineteenth) 
the  Norman  duke  applied  all  the  energies  of  his  mind  and  body, 
all  the  resources  of  his  duchy,  and  all  the  influence  he  posessed 
among  vassals  or  allies,  to  the  collection  of  "the  most  remark- 
able and  formidable  armament  which  the  Western  nations  had 
witnessed."*  All  the  adventurous  spirits  of  Christendom  flocked 
to  the  holy  banner,  under  which  Duke  William,  the  most  renowned 
knight  and  sagest  general  of  the  age,  promised  to  lead  them  to 
glory  and  wealth  in  the  fair  domains  of  England.  His  army  was 
filled  with  the  chivalry  of  Continental  Eiirope,  all  eager  to  save 
their  souls  by  fighting  at  the  pope's  bidding,  eager  to  signalize 
their  valor  in  so  great  an  enterprise,  and  eager  also  for  the  pay 
and  the  plunder  which  William  liberally  promised.  But  the  Nor- 
mans themselves  were  the  jjith  and  the  flower  oi  the  army,  and 
William  himself  was  the  strongest,  the  sagest,  and  the  fiercest 
spirit  of  them  all. 

Throughout  the  spring  and  summer  of  1066,  all  the  sea-ports  of 
Normandy,  Picardy,  and  Brittany  rang  with  the  busy  sound  of 
prepar.ition.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  Channel  King  Harold 
collected  the  army  and  the  fleet  with  which  he  hoped  to  crush 
the  southern  invaders.  But  the  unexpected  attack  of  King  Har- 
ald  Hardrada  of  Norway  upon  another  part  of  England  discon- 
certed the  skilful  measures  which  the  Saxen  had  taken  against  the 
menacing  armada  of  Duke  William. 

Harold's  renegade  brother,  Earl  Tostig,  had  excited  the  Norse 
king  to  this  enterjirise,  the  imjiortance  of  which  has  naturally 
been  eclipsed  by  the  superior  interest  attached  to  the  victorious 
expedition  of  Duke  William,  but  which  was  on  a  scale  of  grandeur 
which  the  Scandinavian  ports  had  rarely,  if  ever,  before  witnessed. 
Hardrada's  fleet  consisted  of  two  hundred  war  ships  and  three 

*  Sir  James  Mackintosli's  "  Hlstoiy  of  Ecgland,"  vol.  1 ,  p.  97.      ^ 


156  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

liiindrcd  other  vessels,  and  all  the  best  warriors  of  Norway  wcrfl 
in  his  liost.  He  sailed  first  to  the  Orkneys,  where  many  of  the 
islanders  joined  him,  and  then  to  Yorkshire.  After  a  severe  con- 
flict ne;ir  York,  he  completely  ronted  Earls  Edwin  and  Morcar, 
the  governors  of  Northnmbria.  The  city  of  York  opened  its  gates, 
and  all  tlie  country,  from  the  Tyne,  to  the  Hiimber,  submitted  to 
him.  The  tidings  of  the  defeat  of  Edwin  and  Morcar  compelled 
Harold  to  leave  his  position  on  the  Southern  coast,  and  move  in- 
stantly against  the  Norwegians.  By  a  remarkably  ra]iid  march  he 
reached  Yorkshire  in  four  days,  and  took  the  Norse  king  and  his 
confederates  by  surprise.  Nevertheless,  the  battle  which  ensued, 
and  which  was  fought  near  Stamford  Bridge,  was  desperate  and 
was  long  doubtful.  Unable  to  break  the  ranks  of  the  Norwegian 
phalanx  by  force,  Harold  at  length  tempted  them  to  quit  their 
close  order  by  a  pretended  flight.  Then  the  English  cohamns 
burst  in  among  them,  and  a  carnage  ensued,  the  extent  of  which 
may  be  judged  of  by  the  exhaustion  and  inactivity  of  Norway  for 
a  cpiarter  of  a  century  afterward.  King  Harald  Hardrada,  and  all 
the  flower  of  his  nobility,  perished  on  the  25th  of  September, 
10G6,  at  Stamford  Bridge,  a  battle  which  was  a  Flodden  to  Nor- 
way. 

Harold's  victory  was  splendid;  but  he  had  bought  it  dearly  by 
the  fall  of  many  of  his  best  of&cers  and  men,  and  still  more  dearly 
by  the  opportunity  which  Duke  William  had  gained  of  effecting 
an  unopposed  landing  on  the  Sussex  coast.  The  whole  of  Wil- 
liam's shipping  had  assembled  at  the  mouth  of  the  Dive,  a  little 
river  between  the  Seine  and  the  Orne,  as  early  as  the  middle  of 
August.  The  army  which  he  had  collected  amounted  to  fifty 
thousand  knights  and  ten  thousand  soldiers  of  inferior  degree. 
Many  of  the  knights  were  mounted,  but  many  must  have  served 
on  foot,  as  it  is  hardly  possible  to  believe  that  William  could  have 
found  tian sports  for  the  conveyance  of  fifty  tliousand  war-horses 
across  the  Channel.  For  a  long  time  the  Tvinds  were  adverse,  and 
the  duke  employed  the  interval  that  passed  before  he  could  set 
sail  in  completing  the  organization  and  in  improving  the  discipline 
of  his  army,  which  he  seems  to  have  brought  into  the  same  state 
of  perfection  as  was  seven  centuries  and  a  half  afterward  the  boast 
of  another  army  assembled  on  the  same  coast,  and  which  Napoleon 
designed  (but  in'ovidentially  in  vain)  for  a  similar  descent  ujjon 
England. 

It  was  not  till  the'  approach  of  the  equinox  that  the  wind  veered 
from  the  northeast  to  the  west,  and  gave  the  Normans  an  oppor- 
tunity of  quitting  the  weary  shores  of  the  Dive.  They  eagerly  em- 
barked and  set  sail,  but  the  wind  soon  freshened  to  a  gale  and  drove 
them  along  the  French  coast  to  St.  Valery  where  the  greater  part 
of  them  found  shelter;  but  many  of  their  vessels  were  wrecked,  and 
the  whole  coast  of  Normandy  was  strewn  with  the  bodies  of  the 
drowned.     William's  army  began  to  grow  discouraged  and  avers© 


BATTLE  OF  HASTINGS.  157 

to  tlie  enterprise,  which  the  very  elements  thus  seemed  to  fight 
against;  though,  in  reality,  the  northeast  wind,  which  had  coped 
them  so  long  at  the  mouth  of  the  Dive,  and  the  western  gale, 
which  had  forced  them  into  St.  Valery,  were  the  best  possible 
friends  to  the  invaders.  They  prevented  the  Normans  fi-om  cross- 
ing the  Channel  until  the  Saxon  king  and  his  army  of  defense 
had  been  called  away  from  the  Sussex  coast  to  encounter  Harald 
Hardrada  in  Yorkshire;  and  also  until  a  formidable  English  fleet 
iwhich  by  King  Harold's  orders  had  been  cruising  in  the  Channel 
to  intercept  the  Normans,  had  been  obliged  to  disperse  tempor- 
arily for  the  purpose  of  refitting  and  taking  in  fresh  stores  of 
provisions. 

Duke  William  used  every  expedient  to  reanimate  the  drooping 
spirits  of  his  men  at  St.  Valery  ;  and  at  last  he  caused  the  body  of 
the  patron  saint  of  the  place  to  be  exhumed  and  carried  in  solemn 
procession,  while  the  whole  assemblage  of  soldiers,  mariners,  and 
appurtenant  priests  imj^lored  the  saint's  intercession  for  a  change 
of  wind.  That  very  night  the  wind  veered,  and  enabled  the  me- 
diajval  Agamemnon  to  quit  his  Aulis. 

With  full  sails,  and  a  following  southern  breeze,  the  Norman 
Armada  left  the  French  shores  and  steered  for  England.  The 
invaders  crossed  an  undefended  sea,  and  found  an  undefended 
coast.  It  was  in  Pevensey  Bay,  in  Siissex,  at  Bulverhithe,  between 
the  castle  of  Pevensey  and  Hastings,  that  the  last  conquerors  of  this 
island  landed  on  the  29th  of  September,  10G6. 

Harold  was  at  York,  rejoicing  over  his  recent  victory,  which  had 
delivered  England  from  her  ancient  Scandinavian  foes,  and  resett- 
ling the  government  of  the  counties  which  Harald  Hardrada  had 
overrun,  when  the  tidings  reached  him  that  Duke  William  of  Nor- 
mandy and  his  host  had  landed  on  the  Sussex  shore.  Harold  in- 
stantly hurried  southward  to  meet  this  long-expected  enemy.  The 
severe  loss  which  his  army  had  sustained  in  the  battle  with  the 
Norwegians  must  have  made  it  impossible  for  many  of  his  veteran 
troops  to  accompany  him  in  his  forced  march  to  London,  and  thence 
to  Sussex.  He  halted  at  the  capital  only  six  days,  and  during  that 
time  gave  orders  for  collecting  forces  from  the  southern  and  mid- 
land counties,  and  also  directed  his  fleet  to  reassemble  ofl'  the 
Sussex  coast.  Harold  was  well  received  in  London,  and  his  sum- 
mons to  arms  was  promptly  obeyed  by  citizen,  by  thane,  by 
■eokman,  and  by  ceorl,  for  he  had  shown  himself,  during  his  brief 
reign,  a  jusi,  and  wise  kingafi'able  to  all  men,  active  for  the  good  of 
his  country,  and  (in  the  words  of  the  old  historian)  sparing  him- 
self from  no  fatigue  by  land  or  by  sea.*  He  might  have  gathered  a 
much  more  numerous  army  than  that  of  William  ;  but  his  recent 
victory  had  made  him  over-confident,  and  he  was  irritated  by  the 

*  See  Roger  de  Hoveden  and  William  of  Malmesbury,  cited  In  Tliierrv 
took  iU. 


15S  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

reports  of  the  country  being  ravaged  by  the  invaders.  As  soon, 
therefore,  as  he  had  collected  a  small  army  in  London,  he  marched 
off  toward  the  coast,  pressing  forward  as  rapidly  as  his  men  could 
traverse  Surrey  and  Sussex,  in  the  hope  of  taking  the  Normans  un- 
awares, as  he  had  recently,  by  a  similar  forced  march,  succeeded  in 
surprising  the  Norwegians.  But  he  had  now  to  deal  with  a  foe 
equally  brave  with  Harald  Hardrada,  and  far  more  skilful  and 
wary. 

The  old  Norman  chroniclers  describe  the  preparations  of  William 
on  his  landing  with  a  graphic  vigoi',  which  would  be  wholly  lost 
by  transfusing  their  racy  Norman  couplets  and  terse  Latin  prose 
into  the  current  style  of  modern  history.  It  is  best  to  follow  them 
closely,  though  at  the  expense  of  much  quaintness  and  occasional 
uncouthness  of  expression.  They  tell  us  how  Duke  William's 
own  ship  was  the  first  of  the  Norman  fleet.  It  was  called  the  Mora, 
and  was  the  gift  of  his  duchess,  Matilda.  On  the  head  of  the  ship, 
in  the  front,  which  mariners  called  the  prow,  there  was  a  brazen 
child  bearing  an  arrow  with  a  bended  bow.  His  face  was  turned 
toward  England,  and  thither  he  looked  as  though  he  was  about  to 
shoot.  The  breeze  became  soft  and  sweet,  and  the  sea  was  smooth 
for  their  landing.  The  ships  ran  on  dry  land,  and  each  ranged  by 
the  other's  side.  There  you  might  see  the  good  sailors,  the  ser- 
geants, and  sqiiires  sally  forth  and  unload  the  ships ;  cast  the 
anchors,  haul  the  ropes,  bear  out  shields  and  saddles,  and  land 
the  war-horses  and  the  palfreys.  The  archers  came  forth,  and 
touched  land  the  first,  each  with  his  bow  strung,  and  with  his 
qiaiver  full  of  arrows  slung  at  his  side.  All  were  shaven  and  shorn ; 
and  all  clad  in  short  garments,  ready  to  attack,  to  shoot,  to  wheel 
about  and  skirmish.  All  stood  well  equipped,  and  of  good  courage 
for  the  tight ;  and  they  scoured  the  whole  shore,  but  found  not  an 
armed  man  there.  After  the  archers  had  thus  gone  forth,  the 
knights  landed  all  armed,  with  their  hauberks  on,  their  shields 
slung  at  their  necks,  and  their  helmets  laced.  They  formed 
together  on  the  shore,  each  armed,  and  moiinted  on  his  war-horse  ; 
all  had  their  swords  girded  on,  and  rode  forward  into  the  country 
with  their  lances  raised.  Then  the  carpenters  landed,  \vho  had 
great  axes  in  their  hands,  and  planes  and  adzes  hung  at  their  sides. 
They  took  counsel  together,  and  soiight  for  a  good  spot  to  place  a 
castle  on.  They  had  brought  with  them  in  the  fleet  three  wooden 
castles  from  Normandy  in  TDieces,  all  ready  for  framing  together, 
and  they  took  the  materials  of  one  of  these  out  of  the  shij^s,  all 
shaped  and  pierced  to  receive  the  pins  which  they  had  brought 
cut  and  ready  in  large  barrels  ;  and  before  evening  had  set  in,  they 
had  finished  a  good  fort  on  the  English  ground,  and  there  they 
placed  their  stores.  All  then  ate  and  drank  enough,  and  were 
right  glad  that  they  were  ashore. 

When  Duke  William  himself  landed,  as  he  stepped  on  the  shore, 
he  slipped  and  fell  forward  upon  his  two  hands.     Forthwith  all 


BATTLE  OF  HASTINGS.  159, 

raised  a  loud  cry  of  distress.  "An  evil  sign,"  said  they,  -'is  here." 
But  he  cried  out  lustily,  "See,  my  lords,  by  the  splendor  of  God,"*-! 
I  have  taken  possession  of  England  with  both  my  hands.  It  is 
now  mine,  and  what  is  mine  is  yours."  ' 

The  next  day  they  marched  along  the  sea-shore  to  Hastings^ 
Near  that  place  the  duke  fortified  a  camp,  and  set  up  the  two  other 
wooden  castles.  The  foragers,  and  those  who  looked  out  for  booty, 
seized  all  the  clothing  and  provisions  they  could  find  lest  what 
had  been  brought  by  the  ships  should  fail  them.  And  the  English 
were  to  be  seen  fleeing  before  them,  driving  off  their  cattle,  and 
quitting  their  hoiises.  Many  took  shelter  in  burying-places,  and 
even  there  they  were  in  grievous  alarm. 

Besides  the  marauders  from  the  Norman  camj^,  strong  bodies  of 
cavalry  were  detached  by  William  into  the  country,  and  these, 
when  Harold  and  his  army  made  their  rapid  march  "from  London 
southward,  fell  back  in  good  order  iipon  the  main  body  of  the 
Normans,  and  reported  that  the  Saxon  king  was  rushing  on  like  a 
madman.  But  Harold,  when  he  found  that  his  hopes  of  surprising 
his  adversary  were  vain,  changed  his  tactics,  and  halted  about  seven 
miles  from  the  Norman  lines.  He  sent  some  spies,  who  spoke  the 
French  language,  to  examine  the  number  and  preparations  of  the 
enemy,  who,  on  their  return,  related  with  astonishment  that  there 
were  more  priests  in  "William's  camp  than  there  were  fighting  men 
in  the  English  army.  They  had  mistaken  for  priests  all  the  Norman 
soldiers  who  had  short  hair  and  shaven  chins,  for  the  English  lay- 
men were  then  accustomed  to  wear  long  hair  and  mustachios. 
Harold,  who  knew  the  Norman  usages,  smiled  at  their  words,  and 
said,  "Those  whom  you  have  seen  in  such  numbers  are  not  priests, 
but  stout  soldiers,  as  they  will  soon  make  us  feel." 

Harold's  army  was  far  inferior  in  number  to  that  of  the  Normans, 
and  some  of  his  cajitains  advised  him  to  retreat  upon  London,  and 
lay  waste  the  countrj^  so  as  to  starve  down  the  strength  of  the 
invaders.  The  policy  thus  recommended  was  unquestionably  the 
wisest,  for  the  Saxon  fleet  had  now  reassembled,  and  intercepted 
all  William's  communications  with  Normandy  ;  and  as  soon  as  his 
stores  of  provisions  were  exhausted,  he  must  have  moved  forward 
upon  London,  where  Harold,  at  the  head  of  the  full  military 
strength  of  the  kingdom,  could  have  defied  his  assault,  and  prob- 
ably might  have  witnessed  his  rival's  destruction  by  famine  and 
disease  without  having  to  strike  a  single  blow.  But  Harold's  bold 
blood  was  up,  and  his  kindly  heart  could  not  endure  to  inflict  on 
his  South  Saxon  subjects  even  the  temporary  misery  of  wasting  the 
country.  "He  would  not  burn  houses  and  villages,  neither  would 
he  take  away  the  substance  of  his  people." 

Harold's  brothers,  Gurth  and  Leofwine,  were  with  him  in  the 
camp,  and  Gurth  endeavored  to  persuade  him  to  absent  himself 

*  William's  customary  oatlii 


160  LECTSIVE  BATTLES. 

from  the  battle.  Tlio  incident  sho-\vs  how  well  devised  had  been 
William's  scheme  of  binding  Harold  by  the  oath  on  the  holy  relics. 
"  -  y  brother,"  said  the  young  Saxon  prince,  "thou  canst  not  deny 
that  either  by  force  or  free  will  thou  hast  made  Duke  William  an 
oath  on  the  bodies  of  saints.  Why  then  risk  thyself  in  the  battle 
with  a  perjury  ui^on  thee  ?  To  us,  who  have  sworn  nothing,  this  is 
a  holy  and  a  just  war,  for  we  are  fighting  for  oiar  country.  Leave 
ns  then  alone  to  fight  this  battle,  and  he  who  has  the  right  will 
win. "  Harold  replied  that  he  would  not  look  on  whili  others  risked 
their  lives  for  him.  Men  would  hold  him  a  coward,  and  blame 
him  for  sending  his  best  friends  where  he  dared  not  go  himself. 
He  resolved,  therefore,  to  fight,  and  to  fight  in  person  ;  but  he  was 
still  too  good  a  general  to  be  the  assailant  in  the  action  ;  and  he 
posted  his  army  with  great  skill  along  a  ridge  of  rising  ground 
which  opened  southward,  and  was  covered  on  the  back  by  an  exten- 
sive wood.  He  strengthened  his  position  by  a  palisade  of  stakes 
and  osier  hurdles,  and  there  he  said  he  would  defend  himseK 
against  whoever  should  seek  him. 

The  ruins  of  Battle  Abbey  at  this  hour  attest  the  place  where 
Harold's  army  was  posted  ;  and  the  high  altar  of  the  abbey  stood 
on  the  very  spot  where  Harold's  own  standard  was  planted  during 
the  fight,  and  where  the  carnage  was  the  thickest.  Immediately 
after  his  victory,  William  vowed  to  build  an  abbey  on  the  site  ; 
and  a  fair  and  stately  pile  soon  rose  there,  where  for  many  ages 
the  monks  prayed  and  said  masses  for  the  souls  of  those  who  were 
slain  in  the  battle,  whence  the  abbey  took  its  name.  Before  that 
time  the  place  was  called  Senlac.  Little  of  the  ancient  edifice 
now  remains  ;  but  it  is  easy  to  trace  in  the  park  and  the  neighbor- 
hood the  scenes  of  the  chief  incidents  in  the  action  ;  and  it  is  im- 
possible to  deny  the  generalship  shown  by  Harold  in  stationing 
his  men,  especially  when  we  bear  in  mind  that  he  was  deficient  in 
cavalry,  the  arm  in  which  his  adversar3''s  main  strength  consisted. 

William's  only  chance  of  safety  lay  in  bringing  on  a  general 
engagement ;  and  he  joyfully  advanced  his  army  from  their  camp 
on  the  hill  over  Hastings,  nearer  to  the  Saxon  position.  But  he 
neglected  no  means  of  weakening  his  opponent,  and  renewed  his 
summonses  and  demands  on  Harold  with  an  ostentatious  air  of 
sanctity  and  moderation. 

"  A  monk,  named  Hugues  Maigrot,  came  in  William's  name  to 
call  upon  the  Saxon  king  to  do  one  of  three  things — either  to 
resign  his  royalty  in  favor  of  William,  or  to  refer  it  to  the  arbitra- 
tion of  the  pope  to  decide  which  of  the  two  ought  to  be  king,  or  to  let 
it  be  determined  by  the  issue  of  a  single  combat.  Harold  abruptly 
replied,  '  I  will  not  resign  my  title,  I  will  not  refer  it  to  the  pope, 
nor  will  T  accept  the  single  combat.'  He  was  far  from  being  defi- 
cient in  bravery  ;  but  he  was  no  more  at  liberty  to  stake  the 
crown  which  he  had  received  from  a  whole  people  in  the  chance 
of  a  duel,  than,  to  deposit  it  in  the  hands  of  an  Italian  priest. 


BATTLE  OF  HASTINGS.  161 

"WiUiam,  not  at  all  ruffled  by  the  Saxon's  refusal,  but  steadily  pur- 
suing the  course  of  his  calculated  measures,  sent  the  Norman 
monk  again,  after  giving  him  these  instructions ;  '  Go  and  tell 
Harold  that  if  he  will  keep  his  former  compact  with  me,  I  will 
leave  to  him  all  the  country  which  is  beyond  the  Humber,  and 
will  give  his  brother  Gurth  all  the  lands  which  Godwin  held. 
If  he  still  persist  in  refusing  my  ofifers,  then  thou  shalt  tell  him, 
before  all  his  people,  that  he  is  a  perjurer  and  a  liar  ;  that  he  and 
all  who  shall  support  him  are  excommunicated  by  the  mouth  of  the 
pope,  and  that  the  bull  to  that  effect  is  in  my  hands. ' 

"Hugues  Maigrot  delivered  this  message  in  a  solemn  tone; 
and  the  Norman  chronicle  says  that  at  the  word  excommunication, 
the  English  chiefs  looked  at  one  another  as  if  some  great  danger 
were  impending.  One  of  them  then  spoke  as  follows  :  '  We  must 
fight,  whatever  may  be  the  danger  to  us  ;for  what  we  have  to  con- 
sider is  not  whether  we  shall  accept  and  receive  a  new  lord,  as  if 
our  king  were  dead;  the  case  is  quite  otherwise.  The  Norman  has 
given  our  lands  to  his  captains,  to  his  knights,  to  all  his  people, 
the  greater  part  of  whom  have  already  done  homage  to  him  for 
them  ;  they  will  all  look  for  their  gift  if  their  duke  become  our 
king  ;  and  he  himself  is  bound  to  deliver  up  to  them  our  goods, 
our  wives,  and  our  daughters  :  all  is  promised  to  them  beforehand. 
They  come,  not  only  to  ruin  us,  but  to  ruin  our  descendants  also 
and  to  take  from  us  the  country  of  our  ancestors.  And  what  shall 
we  do — whither  shall  we  go,  when  we  have  no  longer  a  country?' 
The  English  promised,  by  a  unanimous  vote  to  make  neither 
peace,  nor  truce,  nor  treaty  with  the  invader,  but  to  die,  or  drive 
away  the  Normans."* 

The  13th  of  October  was  occupied  in  these  negotiations,  and  at 
night  the  duke  announced  to  his  men,  that  the  next  day  would  be 
the  day  of  battle.  That  night  is  said  to  have  been  passed  by  the 
two  armies  in  very  ditferent  manners.  The  Saxon  soldiers  spent 
it  in  joviality,  singing  their  national  songs,  and  draining  huge 
horns  of  ale  and  wine  round  their  camp-fires.  The  Normans, 
when  they  had  looked  to  their  arms  and  horses,  confessed  them- 
selves to  the  priests  with  whom  their  camp  was  thronged,  and  re- 
ceived the  sacrament  by  thousands  at  a  time. 

On  Saturday,  the  llth  of  October  was  fought  the  great  battle. 

It  is  not  diflicult  to  compose  a  narrative  of  its  principal  incidents 
from  the  historical  information  which  we  possess,  especially  if  aided 
by  an  examination  of  the  ground.  But  it  is  far  better  to  adopt  the 
spirit-stirring  words  of  the  old  chroniclers,  who  wrote  while  the 
recollections  of  the  battle  were  yet  fresh,  and  while  the  feelings 
and  prejudices  of  the  combatants  yet  glowed  in  the  bosoms  of 
living  men.  Robert  Wace,  the  Norman  poet,  who  presented  his 
"Eomau  de  Ecu"  to  our  Henry  XL,  is  the  most  picturesque  and 

D.B.~6 


162  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

animated  of  the  old  writers,  and  from  him  we  can  obtain  a  more 
vivid  and  full  description  of  the  conflict  than  even  the  most  brilliant 
romance-writer  of  the  present  time  can  supply.  We  have  also  an 
antique  memorial  of  the  battle  more  to  be  relied  on  than  either 
chronicler  or  poet  (and  which  confirms  Wace's  narrative  remark- 
ably) in  the  celebrated  Bayeux  tapestry  which  represents  the 
principal  scenes  of  Duke  William's  expedition,  and  of  the 
circumstances  connected  with  it,  in  minute,  though  occasionally 
grotesque  details,  and  which  was  undoubtedly  the  production 
of  the  same  age  in  which  the  battle  took  place,  whether  we  admit 
or  reject  the  legend  that  Queen  Matilda  and  the  ladies  of  her 
court  wrought  it  with  their  own  hands  in  honor  of  the  royal 
conqueror. 

Let  us  therefore  ouifer  the  old  Norman  chronicler  to  transport 
our  imaginations  to  the  fair  Sussex  scenery  northwest  of  Hastings, 
as  it  appeared  on  the  morning  of  the  fourteenth  of  October,  seven 
hundred  and  eighty-five  years  ago.  Ihe  Norman  host  is  pouring 
forth  from  its  tents,  and  each  troop  and  each  company  is  forming 
fast  under  the  banner  of  its  leader.  The  massess  have  been  sung, 
which  were  finished  betimes  in  the  morning  ;  the  barons  have  all 
assembled  rountl  Duke  William  ;  and  the  duke  has  ordered  that 
the  army  shall  be  formed  in  three  divisions,  so  as  to  make  the 
attack  upon  the  iSaxon  position  in  three  places.  The  duke  stood 
on  a  hill  where  he  could  best  see  his  men  ;  the  barons  surrounded 
him,  and  he  spake  to  them  proudly.  He  told  them  how  he  trusted 
them,  and  how  all  that  he  gained  should  be  theirs,  and  how  sure 
he  felt  of  conquest,  for  in  all  the  world  there  was  not  so  brave  an 
army,  or  such  good  men  and  true  as  were  then  forming  around 
him.  Then  they  cheered  him  in  turn,  and  cried  oiit,  "  'You  will 
not  see  one  coward  ;  none  here  will  fear  to  die  for  love  of  you,  if 
need  be.'  And  he  answered  them,  '  I  thank  you  well.  For  God's 
Bake,  spare  not ;  strike  hard  at  the  beginning  ;  stay  not  to  take 
spoil  ;  all  the  booty  shall  be  in  common,  and  there  will  be  plenty 
for  every  one.  There  will  be  no  safety  in  asking  quarter  or  in 
flight ;  the  English  will  never  love  or  spare  a  Norman.  Pelons 
they  were,  and  felons  they  are  ;  false  they  were,  and  false  they  will 
be.  Show  no  weakness  toward  them,  for  they  will  have  no  pity 
on  you  :  neither  the  coward  for  running  well,  nor  the  bold  man 
for  smiting  well,  will  be  the  better  liked  by  the  English,  nor  will 
any  be  the  more  spared  on  either  account.  You  may  fly  to  the  sea, 
but  you  can  fly  no  farther  ;  you  will  find  neither  ships  nor  bridge 
there;  there  Will  be  no  sailors  to  receive  you  ;  and  the  English  will 
overtake  you  there,  and  slay  you  in  your  shame.  More  of  you  will 
die  in  flight  than  in  battle.  Then,  as  flight  will  not  secure  you, 
fight,  and  you  will  conquer.  I  have  no  doubt  of  the  victory  :  we 
are  come  lor  glory  ;  the  victory  is  in  our  hands,  and  we  may  make 
$ure  of  obtaining  it  if  we  so  please.''  As  the  duke  was  speaking 
thus,  and  would  yet  have  spoken  more,  William  Fitz  Osber  rode  up 


BA  TTLE  OF  EASTIXaS.  163 

\nth  his  horse  all  coated  with  iron  :  'Sire,'  said  he,  '  we  tarry  here 
too  long  ;  let  us  all  arm  ourselves.     Allons  !  Allans ! ' 

"Then  all  went  to  their  tants,  and  armed  themselves  as  they  best 
might ;  and  the  duke  was  very  busy,  giving  every  one  his  orders  ; 
and  he  was  courteous  to  all  the  vassals,  giving  away  many  arms 
and  horses  to  them.  When  he  prepared  to  arm  himself,  he  called 
first  for  his  good  hauberk,  and  a  man  brought  it  on  his  arm,  and 
placed  it  before  him,  bat  in  putting  his  head  in  to  get  it  on,  he 
unawa'-es  turned  it  the  wrong  way,  with  the  back  part  in  front.  He 
soon  changed  it ;  but  when  he  saw  that  those  who  stood  by  were 
sorely  alarmed,  he  said,  '  I  have  seen  many  a  man  who,  if  such  a 
thing  had  happened  to  him,  would  not  have  borne  arms,  or  entered 
the  field  the  same  day  ;  but  I  never  believed  in  omens,  and  I  never 
will.  I  trust  in  God,  for  he  does  in  all  things  his  pleasure,  and 
ordains  what  is  to  come  to  pass  according  to  his  will.  I  have  never 
liked  fortune-tellers,  nor  believed  in  diviners  ;  but  I  commend 
myself  to  Our  Lady,  Let  not  this  mischance  give  you  trouble. 
The  hauberk  which  was  turned  wrong,  and  then  set  right  by  me, 
signifies  that  a  change  will  arise  out  of  the  matter  which  we  are 
now  stirring.  You^hall  see  the  name  of  duke  changed  into  king. 
Yea,  a  king  shall  I  be,  who  hitherto  have  been  but  duke.'  Then 
he  crossed  himself,  and  straightway  took  his  hauberk,  stooped  his 
head,  and  put  it  on  aright ;  and  laced  his  helmet,  and  girt  on  his 
sword,  which  a  varlet  brought  him.  Then  the  duke  called  for  his 
good  horse  -a  better  could  not  be  found.  It  had  been  sent  him 
by  a  king  of  Spain,  out  of  very  great  friendship.  Neither  arms  nor 
the  press  of  fighting  men  did  it  fear,  if  its  lord  spurred  it  on. 
Walter  Gifiard  brought  it.  The  duke  stretched  out  his  hand,  took 
the  reins,  put  foot  in  stirrup,  and  mounted  ;  and  tho  good  horse 
pawed,  pranced,  reared  himself  up,  and  curveted.  The  Viscount 
of  Toarz  saw  how  the  duke  bore  himself  in  arms,  and  said  to  his 
people  that  were  around  him,  •  Never  have  I  seen  a  man  so  fairly 
armed,  nor  one  who  rode  so  gallantly,  or  bore  his  arms,  or  became 
his  hauberk  so  well;  neither  any  one  who  bore  his  lance  so  grace- 
fully, or  sat  his  horse  and  managed  him  so  nobly.  There  is  no 
such  knight  under  heaven  !  a  fair  count  he  is,  and  fair  king  he  will 
be.  Let  him  fight,  and  he  shall  overcome  ;  shame  be  to  the  man 
who  shall  fail  him,' 

"  Then  the  duke  called  for  the  standard  which  the  pope  had 
sent  him,  and  he  who  bore  it  having  unfolded  it,  the  duke  took  it 
and  called  to  llaol  de  Conches.  'Bear  my  standard,'  said  he  'for 
I  would  not  but  do  you  right ;  by  right  and  by  ancestry  your  line 
are  standard-bearers  of  Normandy,  and  very  good  knights  have 
they  all  been.'  But  Raol  said  that  he  would  serve  the  duko  that 
day  in  other  guise,  and  would  fight  the  English  with  his  hand  as 
long  as  life  should  last.  Then  the  duke  bade  Galtier  Giiiart  bear 
the  standard.  But  he  was  old  and  white-headed,  and  bade  the 
duke  give  the  standard  to  some  younger  and    stronger  ma»  to 


184  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

carry.  Then  the  duke  said  fiercely,  '  By  the  splendor  of  God,  my 
lords,  I  think  you  mean  to  betray  and  fail  me  in  this  great  need.' 
'Sire,'  said  Gift'art,  '  not  so  we  have  done  no  treason,  nor  do  I 
refuse  from  any  felony  toward  you  ;  but  1  have  to  lead  a  great 
chivalry,  both  hired  men  and  the  men  of  my  fief.  Never  had  I 
Buch  good  means  of  serving  you  as  i  now  have  ;  and  if  God  please, 
I  will  serve  you  ;  if  need  be,  I  will  die  for  you,  and  will  give  my 
own  heart  for  yours.' 

"  'By  my  faith,'  quoth  the  duke,  'I  always  love  thee,  and  now  I 
love  thee  more ;  if  I  survive  this  day,  thou  shalt  be  the  better  for 
it  all  thy  days.'  Then  he  called  out  a  knight,  whom  he  had  heard 
much  praised,  Tosteins  Fitz-Kou  le  Blanc  by  name,  whose  abode 
was  at  Bec-en-Caux.  To  him  he  delivered  the  standard  ;  and  Tos- 
teins took  it  right  cheerfully,  and  bowed  low  to  him  in  thanks, 
and  bore  it  gallantlj,  and  with  good  heart.  His  kindred  still  have 
quittance  of  all  service  for  their  inheritance  on  this  account,  and 
their  heirs  are  entitled  so  to  hold  their  inheritance  forever. 

'  William  sat  on  his  war-horse,  and  called  out  Bogier,  whom 
they  call  De  Montgomeri.  'I  rely  much  on  you,'  said  he  ;  'lead 
yoiir  men  thitherward,  and  attack  them  from  that  side.  William, 
the  son  of  Osber,  the  seneschal,  a  right  good  vassal,  shall  go  with 
you  and  help  in  the  attack,  and  you  shall  have  the  men  of  Boilogne 
and  Poix,  and  all  my  soldiers.  Alain  Fergert  and  Ameri  shall  at- 
tack on  the  other  side  ;  they  shall  lead  the  Poitevins  and  the 
Bretons,  and  all  the  barons  of  Maine  ;  and  I,  with  my  own  great 
men,  my  friends  and  kindred,  will  fight  in  the  middle  throng, 
where  the  battle  shall  be  the  hottest. 

"  The  barons,  and  knights,  and  men-at-arms  were  all  now  armed; 
the  foot-soldiers  were  well  equipped,  each  bearing  bow  and  sword; 
on  their  heads  were  caps,  and  to  their  feet  were  bound  buskins. 
Some  had  good  hides  which  they  had  bound  round  their  bodies; 
and  many  were  clad  in  frocks,  and  had  quivers  and  bows 
hung  to  their  girdles.  The  knights  had  hauberks  and  swords, 
boots  of  steel,  and  shining  helmets  ;  shields  at  their  necks,  and 
in  their  hands  lances.  And  all  had  their  cognizances,  so  that 
each  might  know  his  fellow,  and  Norman  might  not  strike 
Norman,  nor  Frenchman  kill  his  countryman  by  mistake.  Those 
on  foot  led  the  way,  with  serried  ranks,  bearing  their  bows. 
The  knights  rode  next,  supiDorting  the  archers  from  behind. 
Thus  both  horse  and  foot  kcj^t  their  coTirse  and  order  of  march  as 
they  began,  in  close  ranks  at  a  gentle  pace,  that  the  one  might  not 
pass  or  separate  from  the  other.  All  went  firmly  and  compactly, 
bearing  themselves  gallantly. 

"Harold  had  summoned  his  men,  earls,  barons,  and  vavassors, 
from  the  castles  and  the  cities,  from  the  ports,  the  villages,  and 
boroughs.  The  peasants  were  also  called  together  from  the  vil- 
lages, bearing  such  arms  as  they  found  ;  clubs  and  great  picks, 
iron  forks  and  stakes.     The  Englisii  had  inclosed  the  place  where 


BATTLE  OF  HASTINGS.  1G5 

Harold  was  with  his  friends  and  the  barons  of  the  country  whom 
he  had  summoned  and  called  together. 

"Those  of  London  had  came  at  once,  and  those  of  Kent,  of 
Hertfort,  and  of  Essesse  ;  those  of  Suree  and  Susesse,  of  St.  Ed- 
mund and  Sufoc  ;  of  Norwis  and  Norfoc  ;  of  Cantorbierre  and  Stan- 
fort  ;  Bedefort  and  Hiindetone.  The  men  of  Northanton  also 
came;  and  those  of  Eurowic  and  B-^kinkeham,  of  Bed  and  Notinke- 
ham,  Lindesie  and  Nichole.  There  came  also  from  the  west  all 
who  heard  the  summons  ;  and  very  many  were  to  be  seen  coming 
from  Salebriere  and  Dorset,  from  Bat  and  from  Sumerset.  Many 
came,  too,  from  about  Glocester,  and  many  from  Wirecester,  from 
Wincester,  Hontesire,  and  Brichesire;  and  many  more  from  other 
counties  that  we  have  not  named,  and  cannot,  indeed,  recount. 
All  who  could  bear  arms,  and  had  learned  the  news  of  the  duke's 
arrival,  came  to  defend  the  land.  But  none  came  from  beyond 
Humbre,  for  they  had  other  business  ujjon  their  hands,  the  Danes 
and  Tosti  having  much  damaged  and  weakened  them. 

"  Harold  knew  that  the  Normans  Mould  come  and  attack  him 
hand  to  hand,  so  he  had  early  inclosed  the  field  in  which  he 
placed  his  men.  He  made  them  arm  early,  and  range  themselves 
for  the  battle,  he  himself  having  piit  on  arms  and  equipments  that 
became  such  a  lord.  The  duke,  he  said,  ought  to  seek  him,  as  he 
wanted  to  conquer  England  ;  and  it  became  him  to  abide  the  at- 
tack who  had  to  defend  the  land.  He  commanded  the  people,  and 
counseled  his  barons  to  keep  themselves  all  together,  and  defend 
themselves  in  a  body  ;  for  if  they  once  separated  they  would  with 
difficulty  recover  themselves.  'The  Normans,'  said  he,  'are  good 
vassals,  valiant  on  foot  and  on  horseback  ;  good  knights  are  they 
on  horseback,  and  well  used  to  battle  ;  all  is  lost  if  they  once  pen- 
etrate our  ranks.  They  have  brought  long  lances  and  swords, 
but  you  have  pointed  lances  and  keen-edged  bills;  and  I  do  not 
expect  that  their  arms  can  stand  against  yours.  Cleave  whenever 
you  can  ;  it  will  be  ill  done  if  you  spare  aiight.' 

"The  English  had  built  up  a  fence  before  them  with  their 
shields,  and  with  ash  and  other  wood,  and  had  well  joined  and 
wattled  in  the  whole  work,  so  as  not  to  leave  even  a  crevice  ;  and 
thus  they  had  a  barricade  in  their  front,  through  which  any  Nor- 
man who  would  attack  them  must  first  pass.  Being  covered  in 
this  way  by  their  shields  and  barricades,  their  aim  was  to  defend 
themselves  ;  and  if  they  had  remained  steady  for  that  purpose, 
they  would  not  have  been  conquered  that  day  ;  for  every  Norman 
who  made  his  way  in,  lost  his  life  in  dishonor,  either  by  hatchet 
or  bill,  by  club  or  other  weapon.  They  wore  short  and  close 
hauberks,  and  helmets  that  hung  over  their  garments.  King 
Harold  issued  orders,  and  made  proclamation  round,  that  all 
should  bo  ranged  with  their  faces  toward  the  enemy,  and  that  no 
one  should  move  from  where  he  was,  eo  that  whoever  camo  might 
find  them  ready  ;  and  that  whatever  any  one,  be  he  Norman  or 


IM  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

other,  should  do,  each  should  do  his  best  to  defend  his  own  place. 
Then  he  ordered  the  men  of  Kent  to  go  where  the  Normans  were 
likely  to  make  the  attack  ;  for  they  say  that  the  men  of  Kent  are 
entitled  to  strike  first ;  and  that  whenever  the  king  goes  to  battle 
the  first  blow  belongs  to  them.  The  right  of  the  men  of  London 
is  to  guard  the  king's  body,  to  place  themselves  around  him,  and 
to  guard  his  standard  ;  and  they  were  accordingly  placed  by  the 
standard  to  watch  and  defend  it. 

"When  Harold  had  made  all  ready,  and  given  his  orders,  he 
came  into  the  midst  of  the  English,  and  dismounted  by  the  side 
of  the  standard  ;  Leofwin  and  Gurth,  his  brothers,  were  with  him; 
and  around  him  he  had  barons  enough,  as  he  stood  by  his  stand- 
ard, which  was,  in  truth,  a  noble  one,  sparkling  with  gold  and 
precious  stones.  After  the  victory  William  sent  it  to  the  pope,  to 
prove  and  commemorate  his  great  conquest  and  glory.  The  Eng- 
lish stood  in  close  ranks,  ready  and  eager  for  the  fight ;  and  they, 
moreover,  made  a  fosse,  which  went  across  the  field,  guarding  one 
side  of  their  army. 

"  Meanwhile  the  Normans  appeared  advancing  over  the  ridge  of 
a  rising  ground,  and  the  first  division  of  their  troops  moved  on- 
ward along  the  hill  and  across  a  valley.  And  presently  another 
division,  still  larger,  came  in  sight,  close  following  upon  the  first, 
and  they  were  led  toward  another  jaart  of  the  field,  forming  to- 
gether as  the  first  body  had  done.  And  while  Harold  saw  and 
examined  them,  and  was  pointing  them  out  to  Gurth,  a  fresh 
company  came  in  sight,  covering  all  the  plain  ;  and  in  the  midst 
of  them  was  raised  the  standard  that  came  from  Home.  Near  it 
was  the  duke,  and  the  best  men  and  greatest  strength  of  the  army 
were  there.  The  good  knights,  the  good  vassals  and  brave  war- 
riors were  there ;  and  there  were  gathered  together  the  gentle 
barons,  the  good  archers,  and  the  men-at-arms,  whose  duty  it  was 
to  guard  the  duke,  and  range  themselves  around  him.  Tha 
jcouths  and  common  herd  of  the  camp,  whose  business  was  not  to 
join  in  the  battle,  but  to  take  care  of  the  harness  and  stores, 
moved  oif  toward  a  rising  ground.  The  priests  and  the  clerks 
also  ascended  a  hill,  there  to  offer  up  prayers  to  God,  and  watch 
the  event  of  the  battle. 

"The English  stood  firm  on  foot  in  close  ranks,  and  carried 
themselves  right  boldly.  Each  man  had  his  hauberk  on,  with  hia 
sword  girt,  and  his  shield  at  his  neck.  Great  hatchets  were  also 
slung  at  their  necks,  with  which  they  expected  to  strike  heavy 
blows. 

"  The  Normans  brought  on  the  three  divisions  of  their  army  to 
attack  at  different  places.  They  set  out  in  three  companies  ;  and 
in  three  companies  did  they  fight.  The  first  and  second  had 
come  up,  and  then  advanced  the  third,  which  was  the  greatest ; 
with  that  came  the  duke  with  hia  own  men,  and  all  moved  boldly 
forward. 


BATTLE  OF  HASTIXOS.  IffT 

"As  soon  as  the  two  armies  were  in  full  view  of  each  other, 
great  noise  and  tumult  arose.  You  might  hear  the  sound  of  many 
trumpets,  of  bugles,  and  of  horns  ;  and  then  you  might  see  men 
ranging  themselves  in  line,  lifting  their  shields,  raising  their 
lances,  bending  their  bows,  handling  their  arrows,  ready  for  as- 
sault and  defense. 

"  The  English  stood  steady  to  their  post,  the  Normans  still  moved 
on  ;  and  when  they  drew  near,  the  English  were  to  be  seen  stir- 
ring to  and  fro  ;  were  going  and  coming  ;  troops  ranging  them- 
selves in  order  ;  some  with  their  color  rising,  others  turning  pale; 
some  making  ready  their  arms,  others  raising  their  shields  ;  the 
brave  man  rousing  himself  to  light,  the  coward  trembling  at  the 
approach  of  danger. 

"  Then  Taillefer,  who  sang  right  well,  rode,  mounted  on  a  swift 
horse,  before  the  duke,  singing  of  Charlemagne  and  of  Roland  of 
Oliver,  and  the  peers  who  died  in  Eoncesvalles.  And  when  they 
drew  nigh  to  the  English,  '  A  boon,  sire  ! '  cried  Taillefer  ;  '  I  have 
longed  served  you,  and  you  owe  me  for  all  such  service.  To-day, 
so  please  you,  you  shall  rej^ay  it.  I  ask  as  my  guerdon,  and  be- 
seech j'ou  for  it  earnestly,  that  yoi'  will  allow  me  to  strike  the  first 
blow  in  the  battle  !'  And  the  duke  answered,  'I  grant  it.'  Then 
Taillefer  put  his  horse  to  a  gallop,  charging  before  all  the 
rest,  and  struck  an  Englishman  dead,  driving  his  lance  below  the 
breast  into  his  body,  and  stretching  him  upon  the  ground.  Then 
he  drew  his  sword,  and  struck  another,  crying  oiat,  'Come  on, 
come  on  !  What  do  ye,  sirs  ?  lay  on,  lay  on  !'  At  the  second  blow 
he  struck,  the  English  pushed  forward,  and  surrounded,  and  slew 
him.  Forthwith  arose  the  noise  and  cry  of  war,  and  on  either 
side  the  people  put  themselves  iu  motion. 

"  The  Normans  moved  on  to  the  assault,  and  the  English  de- 
fended themselves  well.  Some  were  striking,  others  urging  on- 
ward ;  all  were  bold,  and  cast  aside  fear.  And  now,  behold,  that 
battle  was  gathered  whereof  the  fame  is  yet  mighty. 

"Loud  and  far  resounded  the  bray  of  the  horns  ;  and  the  shocks 
of  the  lances,  the  mighty  strokes  of  maces,  and  the  quick  clashing 
of  swords.  One  while  the  Englishmen  rushed  on,  another  wbile 
they  fell  back  ;  one  while  the  men  from  over  sea  charged  onward, 
and  again  at  other  times  retreated.  The  Normans  shouted  Dex 
Aie,  the  English  people  Out.  Then  came  the  cunning  maneuvers, 
the  rude  shocks  and  strokes  of  the  lance,  and  blows  of  the  swords, 
among  the  sergeants  and  soldiers,  lloth  EngliKh  and  Norman. 

"When  the  English  fall  the  Normans  shout.  Each  side  taunts 
and  defies  the  other,  yet  neither  knoweth  what  the  other  saith  ; 
and  the  Normans  say  the  English  bark,  because  they  understand 
not  their  speech. 

"  Some  wax  strong,  others  weak  :  the  brave  exult,  but  the  cow- 
ards tremble,  as  men  who  are  sore  dismayed.  The  Normans  press 
on  the  assault,  and  the  English  defend  their  post  well  •  they  pierce 


i<38  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

the  hauberks,  and  cleave  the  shields,  receive  and  return  mighty 
blows.  Again,  some  press  forward,  others  yield  ;  and  thus,  in  va- 
rious ways,  the  struggle  proceeds.  In  the  plain  was  a  fosse,  which 
the  Normans  had  now  behind  them,  having  passed  it  in  the  fight 
without  regarding  it.  But  the  English  charged  and  drove  the 
Normans  before  them  till  they  made  them  fall  back  upon  this 
fosse,  overthrowing  into  it  horses  and  men.  Many  were  to  be 
seen  falling  therein,  rolling  one  over  the  other,  with  their  faces  to 
the  earth,  and  unable  to  rise.  Many  of  the  English,  also,  whom 
the  Normans  drew  down  along  with  them,  died  there.  At  no  time 
during  the  day's  battle  did  so  many  Normans  die  as  perished  in 
that  fosse.     So  those  said  who  saw  the  dead. 

"  The  varlets  who  were  set  to  guard  the  harness  began  to  aban- 
don it  as  they  saw  the  loss  of  the  Frenchmen,  when  thrown  back 
upon  the  fosse  without  power  to  recover  themselves.  Being  greatly 
alarmed  at  seeing  the  difficulty  in  restoring  order,  they  began  to 
quit  the  harness,  and  sought  around,  not  knowing  where  to  find 
shelter.  Then  Duke  William's  brother,  Odo,  the  good  priest,  the 
Bishop  of  Bayeux,  galloped  up,  and  said  to  them,  '  Stand  fast ! 
stand  fast !  be  quiet  and  move  not !  fear  nothing  ;  for,  if  God 
please,  we  shall  conquer  yet.'  So  they  took  courage,  and  rested 
where  they  were  ;  and  Odo  returned  galloping  back  to  where  the 
battle  was  most  fierce,  and  was  of  great  service  on  that  day.  He 
had  put  a  hauberk  on  over  a  white  aube,  wide  in  the  body,  with 
the  sleeve  tight,  and  sat  on  a  white  horse,  so  that  all  might  recog- 
nize him.  In  his  hand  he  held  a  mace,  and  wherever  he  saw  most 
need  he  held  up  and  stationed  the  knights,  and  often  urged  them 
on  to  assault  and  strike  the  enemy. 

"From  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  the  combat  began, 
till  three  o'clock  came,  the  battle  was  up  and  down,  this  way  and 
that,  and  no  one  knew  who  would  conquer  and  win  the  land. 
Both  sides  stood  so  firm  and  fought  so  well,  that  no  one  could 
guess  which  would  prevail.  The  Norman  archers  with  their  bows 
shot  thickly  upon  the  English;  but  they  covered  themselves  with 
their  shields,  so  that  the  arrows  could  not  reach  their  bodies,  nor 
do  any  mischief,  how  true  soever  was  their  aim,  or  however  well 
they  shot.  Then  the  Normans  determined  to  shoot  their  arrows 
upward  into  the  air,  so  that  they  might  fall  on  their  enemies' 
heads,  and  strike  their  faces.  The  archers  adopted  this  scheme, 
and  sTiot  up  into  the  air  toward  the  English  ;  and  the  arrows,  in 
falling,  struck  their  heads  and  faces,  and  put  out  the  eyes  of 
many  ;  and  all  ft-ared  to  ojjen  their  eyes,  or  leave  their  faces  un- 
guarded. 

"The  arrows  now  flew  thicker  than  rain  before  the  wind  ;  fast 
sped  the  shafts  that  the  English  call  '  wibetes.'  Then  it  was  that 
an  arrow,  that  had  been  thus  shot  upward,  struck  Harold  above 
his  right  eye,  and  put  it  out.  In  his  agony  he  drew  the  arrow  and 
threw  it  away,  breaking  it  with  his  hands  ;  and  the  pain  to  his  head 


BATTLE  OF  HASTINGS.  189 

was  so  great  that  he  leaned  upon  his  shield.  So  the  English  were 
wont  to  say,  and  still  say  to  the  French,  that  the  arrow  was  well 
shot  which  was  so  sent  np  against  their  king,  and  that  the  archer 
won  them  great  glory  who  thus  put  C)ut  Harold's  eye. 

"The  Normans  saw  that  the  English  defended  themselves  well, 
and  were  so  strong  in  their  position  that  they  could  do  little 
^against  them.  So  they  consulted  together  privily,  and  arranged 
to  draw  off,  and  pretend  to  flee,  till  the  English  should  pursue 
and  scatter  themselves  over  the  field  ;  for  they  saw  that  if  they 
could  once  get  their  enemies  to  break  their  ranks,  they  might  be 
attacked  and  discomfitted  much  more  easily.  As  they  had  said, 
so  they  did.  The  Normans  by  little  and  little  tied,  the  English 
following  them.  As  the  one  fell  back,  the  other  pressed  after;  and 
when  the  Frenchmen  retreated,  the  English  thought  and  cried  out 
that  the  men  of  France  fled,  and  would  never  return. 

"Thus  they  were  deceived  by  the  pretended  flight,  and  great 
mischief  thereby  befell  them  ;  for  if  they  had  not  moved  from 
their  position,  it  is  not  likely  that  they  would  have  been  con- 
quered at  all  ;  biit,  like  fools,  they  broke  their  lines  and  pursued. 

"The  Normans  were  to  be  seen  following  up  their  stratagem, 
retreating  slowly  so  as  to  draw  the  English  farther  on.  As  they 
still  flee,  the  English  pursue  ;  they  push  out  their  lances  and 
stretch  forth  their  hatchets,  following  the  Normans  as  they  go,  re- 
joicing in  the  success  of  their  scheme,  and  scattering  themselves 
over  the  plain.  And  the  English  meantime  jeered  and  insulted 
their  foes  with  words.  'Cowards,'  they  cried,  'you  came  hither 
in  an  evil  hour,  wanting  our  lands,  and  seeking  to  seize  our  prop- 
erty, fools  that  ye  were  to  come  !  Normandy  is  too  far  ofl",  and 
you  will  not  easily  reach  it.  It  is  of  little  use  to  run  back  ;  unless 
you  can  cross  the  sea  at  a  leap,  or  can  drink  it  dry,  your  sons  and 
daughters  are  lost  to  you.' 

"  "The  Normans  bore  it  all  ;  but,  in  fact,  they  knew  not  what  the 
English  said  :  their  langiiage  seemed  like  the  baying  of  dogs  which 
they  could  not  understand.  At  length  they  stopped  and  turned 
round,  determined  to  recover  their  ranks  ;  and  the  barons  might 
be  heard  crying  dex  ate  !  for  a  halt.  Then  the  Normans  resumed 
their  former  position,  turning  their  faces  toward  the  enemy  ;  and 
their  men  were  to  be  seen  facing  round  and  rushing  onward  to  a 
fresh  melee,  the  one  party  assaulting  the  other  ;  this  man  striking, 
another  pressing  onward.  One  hits,  another  misses;  one  flies,  an- 
other pursues;  one  is  aiming  a  stroke,  while  another  discharges 
his  blow.  Norman  strives  with  Englishman  again,  and  aims  his 
blows  afresh.  One  flies,  another  pursues  swiftly:  the  combatants 
are  many,  the  plain  wide,  the  battle  and  the  melee  fierce.  On  every 
hand  they  fight  hard,  the  blows  are  heavy,  and  the  struggle  be- 
comes fierce. 

"  The  Normans  were  playing  their  part  well,  when  an  English 
Icnight  came  rushing  up,  having  in  his  company  a  hundred  men. 


1 70  DECISI VE  BA  TTLE8. 

furnished  •with  Tariotis  arms.  He  wielded  a  northern  hatchet, 
■with  the  blade  a  full  foot  long,  and  was  well  armed  after  his  man- 
ner, being  tall,  bold,  and  of  noble  carriage.  In  the  front  of  the 
battle,  where  the  Normans  thronged  most,  he  came  bounding  on 
swifter  than  the  stag,  many  Normans  falling  before  him  and  his 
company.  He  rushed  straight  upon  a  Norman  who  was  armed 
and  riding  on  a  war-house,  and  tried  with  his  hatchet  of  steel  to 
cleave  his  helmet ;  biit  the  blow  miscarried,  and  the  sharp  blade 
glanced  down  before  the  saddle-bow,  driving  through  the  horse's 
neck  down  to  the  ground,  so  that  both  horse  and  master  fell  to- 
gether to  the  earth,  I  know  not  whether  the  Englishman  struck 
another  blow;  but  the  Normans  who  saw  the  stroke  were  as- 
tonished, and  about  to  abandon  the  assault,  when  Roger  de  Mont- 
gomeri  came  galloping  uj),  with  his  lance  set,  and  heeding  not  the 
long-handled  axe  which  the  Englishman  wielded  aloft,  striick  him 
down,  and  left  him  stretched  on  the  ground.  Then  Roger  cried 
out,  '  Frenchmen,  strike !  the  day  is  ours  ! '  And  again  a  fierce 
melee  was  to  be  seen,  with  many  a  blow  of  lance  and  sword  ;  the 
English  still  defending  themselves,  killing  the  horses  and  cleaving 
the  shields. 

"There  was  a  French  soldier  of  noble  mien,  who  sat  his  horse 
gallantly.  He  spied  two  Englishmen  who  were  also  carrying 
themselves  boldly.  They  were  both  men  of  great  worth,  and  had 
become  companions  in  arms  and  fought  together,  the  one  protect- 
ing the  other.  They  bore  two  long  and  broad  bills,  and  did  great 
mischief  to  the  Normans,  killing  both  horses  and  men.  The 
French  soldier  looked  at  them  and  their  bills,  and  was  sore 
alarmed,  for  he  was  afraid  of  losing  his  good  horse,  the  best  that 
he  had,  and  woiald  willingly  have  turned  to  some  other  qiiarter, 
if  it  would  not  have  looked  like  cowardice.  He  soon,  however, 
recovered  his  courage,  and,  spurring  his  horse,  gave  him  the  bri- 
dle, and  galloped  swiftly  forward.  Fearing  the  two  bills,  he 
raised  his  shield,  and  struck  one  of  the  Englishmen  with  his  lance 
on  the  breast,  so  that  the  iron  passed  out  at  his  back.  At  the  mo- 
ment that  he  fell,  the  lance  broke,  and  the  Frenchman  seized  the 
mace  that  hung  at  his  right  side,  and  struck  the  other  Englishman 
a  blow  tbat  completely  fractured  his  skull. 

"On  the  other  side  was  an  Englishman  who  much  annoyed  the 
French,  continually  assaiilting  them  with  a  keen-edged  hatchet. 
He  had  a  helmet  made  of  wood,  which  he  had  fastened  down  to 
his  coat,  and  laced  round  his  neck,  so  that  no  blows  could  reach 
his  head.  The  ravage  he  was  making  was  seen  by  a  gallant  Nor- 
man knight,  who  rode  a  horse  that  neither  fire  nor  water  could 
stop  in  its  career,  -when  its  master  urged  it  on.  The  knight 
spurred,  and  bis  horse  carried  him  on  well  till  he  charged  the 
Englishman,  striking  him  over  the  helmet,  so  that  it  fell  down 
over  his  eyes;  and  as  he  stretched  out  his  hand  to  raise  it  and 
uncover  his  face,  the  Norman  cut  off  his  right  hand,  so  that  his 


BATTLE  OF  HASTINOS.  171 

hatchet  fell  to  the  ground.  Another  Norman  sprang  forward  and 
eagerly  seized  the  prize  with  both  his  hands,  but  he  kept  it  little 
space,  and  paid  dearly  for  it,  for  as  he  stooped  to  pick  up  the 
hatchet,  an  Englishman  with  his  lond-handled  axe  struck  him 
over  the  back,  breaking  all  his  bones,  so  that  his  entrails  and 
lungs  gushed  forth.  The  knight  of  the  good  horse  meantime  re- 
turned without  injury;  but  en  his  way  he  met  another  English- 
man, and  bore  him  down  under  his  horse,  wounding  him  griev- 
ously, and  trampling  him  altogether  under  foot. 

"And  now  might  be  heard  the  loud  clang  and  cry  of  battle,  and 
the  clashing  of  lances.  The  English  stood  firm  in  their  barricades, 
and  shivered  the  lances,  beating  them  into  pieces  with  their  bills 
and  maces.  The  Normans  drew  their  swords  and  hewed  down 
the  barricades,  and  the  English,  in  great  trouble,  fell  back  upon 
their  standard,  where  were  collected  the  maimed  and  wounded. 

"  There  wany  knights  of  Chauz  who  jousted  and  made  attacks. 
The  English  knew  not  how  to  joust,  or  bear  arms  on  horseback, 
but  fought  with  hatchets  and  bills.  A  man,  when  he  wanted  to 
strike  with  one  of  their  hatchets,  was  obliged  to  hold  it  with  both 
his  hands,  and  could  not  at  the  same  time,  as  it  seems  to  me,  both 
cover  himself  and  strike  with  any  freedom. 

"  The  English  fell  back  toward  the  standard,  which  was  upon 
a  rising  ground,  and  the  Normans  followed  them  across  the  val- 
ley, attacking  them  on  foot  and  horseback.  Then  Hue  de  Mor- 
temer,  with  the  Sires  D'Auviler,  D'Onebac,  and  Saint  Cler,  rode  up 
and  charged,  overthrowing  many. 

"Robert  Fitz  Erneis  fixed  his  lance,  took  his  shield,  and,  gallop- 
ing toward  the  standard,  with  his  keen-edged  sword  struck  an 
Englishman  who  was  in  front,  killed  him,  and  then  drawing  back 
his  sword,  attacked  many  others,  and  pushed  straight  for  the  stand- 
ard, trying  to  beat  it  down  ;  but  the  English  surrounded  it,  and 
killed  him  with  their  bills.  He  was  found  on  Ihe  spot,  when  they 
afterward  sought  for  him  dead  and  lying  at  the  standard's  foot. 

"Duke  William  pressed  close  upon  the  English  with  his  lance 
striving  hard  to  reach  the  standard  with  the  great  troop  he  led  and 
seeking  earnestly  for  Harold,  on  whose  account  the  whole  war  was. 
The  Normans  follow  their  lord,  and  press  around  him,  they  ply 
their  blows  upon  the  English  ;  and  these  defend  themselves  stout- 
ly, striving  hard  with  their  enemies,  returning  blow  for  blow. 

"  One  of  them  was  a  man  of  great  strength,  a  wrestler,  who  did 
great  mischief  to  the  Normans  with  his  hatchet  ;  all  feared  him,  for 
he  struck  down  a  great  many  Normans.  The  duke  spurred  on  his 
horse,  and  aimed  a  blow  at  him,  but  he  stooped,  and  so  escaped 
the  stroke  ;  then  jumping  on  one  side,  he  lilted  his  hatchet  aloft, 
and  as  the  duke  bent  to  avoid  the  blow,  the  Englishman  boldly 
etruck  him  on  the  head,  and  beat  in  his  helmet  though  without 
doing  much  injury.  He  was  very  near  falling  however  ;  but, 
bearing  on  his  stirraps,  he  recovered  himself  immediately  ;  and 


172  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

when  lie  thought  to  have  revenged  himself  upon  the  churl  by  kill- 
ing him,  he  had  escaped,  dreading  the  duke's  blow.  He  ran  back 
in  among  the  English,  b\at  he  was  not  safe  even  there  ;  for  the  Nor- 
mans, seeing  him,  pursued  and  caught  him,  and  having  pierced 
him  through  and  through  with  their  lances,  left  him  dead  on  the 
ground. 

"  Where  the  throng  of  the  battle  was  greatest,  the  men  of  Kent 
and  Essex  fought  wondrously  well,  and  made  the  Normans  again 
retreat,  but  without  doing  them  much  injury.  And  when  the  duke 
saw  his  men  lall  back,  and  the  English  triumphing  over  them,  his 
spirit  rose  high,  and  he  seized  his  shield  and  his  lance,  which  a 
vassal  handed  to  him,  and  took  his  post  by  his  standard. 

"Then  those  who  kept  close  guard  by  him,  and  rode  where  he 
rode,  being  about  a  thousand  armed  men,  came  and  rushed  with 
closed  ranks  upon  the  English  ;  and  with  the  weight  of  their  good 
horses,  and  the  blows  the  knights  gave,  broke  the  press  of  the 
enemy,  and  scattered  the  crowd  before  them,  the  good  duke  lead- 
ing them  on  in  front.  Many  pursutd  and  many  fled  ;  many  were 
the  Englishmen  who  fell  around,  and  were  trampled  under  the 
horses,  crawling  upon  the  earth,  and  not  able  to  rise.  Many  of 
the  richest  and  noblest  men  fell  in  the  rout,  but  still  the  English 
rallied  in  places,  smote  down  those  whom  they  reached,  and  main- 
tained the  combat  the  best  they  could,  beating  down  the  men  and 
killing  the  horses.  One  Englishman  watched  the  duke,  and 
plotted  to  kill  him  ;  he  would  have  struck  him  with  his  lance,  but 
he  could  not,  for  the  duke  struck  him  first,  and  felled  him  to  the 
earth. 

'•Loud  was  now  the  clamor,  and  great  the  slaughter  ;  many  a 
soul  then  quitted  the  body  it  inhabited.  The  living  marched  over 
the  heaps  of  dead,  and  each  side  was  weary  of  striking.  He 
charged  on  who  could,  and  he  who  could  no  longer  strike  still 
pushed  forward.  The  strong  struggled  with  the  strong ;  some 
failed,  others  triumphed  ;  the  cowards  fell  back,  the  brave  pressed 
on  ;  and  sad  was  his  fate  who  fell  in  the  midst,  for  he  had  little 
chance  of  rising  again  ;  and  many  in  truth  fell  who  never  rose  at 
all,  being  crushed  under  the  throng. 

"And  now  the  Normans  had  pressed  on  so  far,  that  at  last  they 
had  reached  the  standard.  There  Harold  had  remained ,  defend- 
ing himself  to  the  utmost  ;  but  he  was  sorely  wounded  in  his  eye 
by  the  arrow,  and  suffered  grievous  pain  from  the  blow.  An  armed 
man  came  in  the  throng  of  the  battle,  and  strvick  him  on  the  ven- 
taille  of  his  helmet,  and  beat  him  to  the  ground  ;  and  as  he  sought 
to  recover  himself,  a  knight  beat  him  down  again,  striking  him  on 
the  thick  of  his  thigh  down  to  the  bone. 

' '  Gurth  saw  the  English  falling  around,  and  that  there  was 
no  remedy.  He  saw  his  race  hastening  to  ruin,  and  despaired  of  any 
aid;  he  would  have  fled,  but  could  not,  for  the  throng  continually 
increased.     And  the  duke  pushed  on  till  he  reached  him,  and 


BATTLE  OF  HASTINGS.  173 

struck  him  with  great  force.  Whether  he  died  of  that  blow  I  know 
not,  but  it  was  said  that  he  fell  under  it,  and  rose  no  more. 

"  The  standard  was  beaten  down,  the  golden  standard  was  taken, 
and  Harold  and  the  best  of  his  friends  were  slain;  but  there  was  so 
much  eagerness,  and  throng  of  so  many  around,  seeking  to  kill  him, 
that  I  know  not  who  it  was  that  slew  him. 

"  The  English  were  in  great  trouble  at  having  lost  their  king,  and 
at  the  duke's  having  conquered  and  beat  down  the  standard;  but 
they  still  fought  on,  and  defended  themselves  long,  and  in  fact  till 
the  day  drew  to  a  close.  Then  it  clearly  apjDeared  to  all  that  the 
standard  was  lost,  and  the  news  had  spread  throughout  the  army 
that  Harold,  for  certain,  was  dead;  and  all  saw  that  there  was  no 
longer  any  hope,  so  they  left  the  field,  and  those  fled  who  could. 

"  William  fought  well;  many  an  assault  did  he  lead,  many  ablow 
did  he  give,  and  many  receive,  and  many  fell  dead  under  his  hand. 
Two  horses  were  killed  under  him,  and  he  took  a  third  when  neces- 
sary, so  that  he  fell  not  to  the  ground,  and  lost  not  a  drop  of  blood, 
But  whatever  any  one  did,  and  whoever  lived  or  died,  this  is  cer- 
tain, that  William  conquered,  and  that  many  of  the  English  fled 
from  the  field,  and  many  died  on  the  spot.  Then  he  returned 
thanks  to  God,  and  in  his  pride  ordered  his  standard  to  be  brought 
and  set  up  on  high  where  the  English  standard  had  stood ;  and 
that  was  the  signal  of  his  having  conquered,  and  beaten  down  the 
standard.  And  he  ordered  his  tent  to  be  raised  on  the  spot  among 
the  dead,  and  had  his  meat  brought  thither,  and  his  supper  pre- 
p.ired  there. 

"Then  he  took  of  his  armor;  and  the  barons  and  knights  pages 
and  squires  came,  when  he  had  unstrung  his  shield;  and  they  took 
the  helmet  from  his  head,  and  the  hauberk  from  his  back,  and  saw 
the  heavy  blows  upon  his  shield,  and  how  his  helmet  was  dinted 
in,  and  all  greatly  wondered,  and  said  '  Such  a  baron  (ber)  never 
bestrode  war-horse,  nor  dealt  such  blows,  nor  did  such  feats  of 
arms;  neither  has  there  been  on  earth  such  a  knight  since  Eollant 
and  Oliver.' 

"Thus  they  lauded  and  extolled  him  greatly,  and  rejoiced  in 
what  they  saw,  but  grieving  also  for  their  friends  who  were  slain 
in  the  battle.  And  the  duke  stood  meanwhile  among  them,  of 
noble  stature  and  mien,  and  rendered  thanks  to  the  king  of  glory, 
through  whom  he  had  the  victory;  and  thanked  the  knights  around 
him,  mourning  also  frequently  for  the  dead.  And  he  ate  and  drank 
among  the  dead,  and  made  his  bed  that  night  upon  the  field. 

"The  morrow  was  Sunday;  and  those  who  had  slept  upon  the 
field  of  battle,  keeping  watch  around  and  suffering  great  fatigue,  be- 
stirred themselves  at  break  of  daj',  and  sought  out  and  buried  such 
of  the  bodies  of  their  friends  as  they  might  find.  The  noble  ladies 
of  the  land  also  came,  some  to  seek  their  husbands,  and  others  their 
fathers,  sons,  or  brothers.  They  bore  the  bodies  to  their  villages, 
and  interred  them  at  the  churches;  and  the  clerks  and  priests  of 


17i  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

the  country  were  ready,  and  at  the  request  of  their  frienaa,  cook  the 
bodies  that  were  found,  and  jirepared  graves  and  lay  them  therein. 

"King  Harold  was  carried  and  buried  at  Varham;  biat  I  know 
not  who  it  was  that  bore  him  thither,  neither  do  I  know  who  buried 
him.  Many  remained  on  the  field,  and  many  had  fled  in  the 
night. 

Such  is  a  Norman  account  of  the  battle  of  Hastings,  *  which  does 
full  justice  to  the  valor  of  the  Saxons  as  well  rs  to  the  skill  and 
bravery  of  the  victors.  It  is  inc'^ied  evident  that  the  loss  of  the  bat- 
tle by  the  English  was  owing  to  the  wound  which  Harold  received 
in  the  afternoon,  and  which  must  have  incapacitated  him  from  effec- 
tive command.  When  we  remember  that  he  had  himself  just  won 
the  battle  of  Stamford  Bridge  over  Harold  Hardrada  by  the  maneu- 
ver of  a  feigned  flight,  it  is  impossible  to  suppose  that  ho  could  be 
deceived  by  the  same  stratagem  on  the  part  of  the  Normans  at 
Hastings.  But  his  men,  when  deprived  of  his  control,  would  very 
naturally  be  led  by  their  inconsiderate  ardor  into  the  pursuit  that 
proved  so  fatal  to  them.  All  the  narratives  of  the  battle,  however 
much  they  vary  as  to  the  precise  time  and  manner  of  Harold's  fall, 
eulogize  the  generalshi})  and  the  personal  prowess  which  he  dis- 
played, until  the  fatal  arrow  struck  him.  The  skill  with  which  he 
had  posted  his  army  was  proved  both  by  the  slaughter  which  it  cost 
the  Normans  to  force  the  position,  and  also  by  the  desperate  rally 
which  some  of  the  Saxons  made  after  the  battle  in  the  forest  in  the 
rear,  in  which  they  cut  off  a  large  number  of  the  pursuing  Normans. 
This  circumstance  is  particularly  mentioned  by  William  of  Poic- 
tiers,  the  Conqueror's  own  chaplain.  Indeed,  if  Harold,  or  either 
of  his  brothers,  had  survived,  the  remains  of  tiie  English  army 
might  have  formed  again  in  the  wood,  and  could  at  least  have  ef- 
fected an  orderly  retreat,  and  jarolonged  the  war.  But  both  Gurth, 
and  Leofwine,  and  all  the  bravest  Thanes  of  Southern  England  lay 
dead  on  Senlac,  around  their  fallen  king  and  the  fallen  standard  of 
their  country.  The  exact  number  that  perished  on  the  Saxon  side 
is  unknown ;  but  we  read  that  on  the  side  of  the  victors,  out  of  six- 
sixty  thousand  men  who  had  been  engaged,  no  less  than  a  fourth 
perished.  So  well  had  the  English  billmen  "plyed  the  ghastly 
blow,"  and  so  sternly  had  the  Saxon  battle-axe  cloven  Norman 
casque  and  mail.f  The  old  historian  Daniel  justly  as  well  as  for- 
cibly remark', J  "Thus  was  tried,  by  the  gret.t  assize  of  God's 
judgment  in  battle,  the  right  of  powf'v  betweeu  fhe  English  and 


•  In  the  preceding  pages  I  have  woven  together  the  purpureos  pannes ' 
of  the  old  chronicler  In  so  doing,  I  have  largely  avalK.c  myself  of  Mr  Edgar 
'J  aylor's  version  of  that  part  of  the  '•  Roman  de  liou  "  which  describes  the 
conquest,  isy  giving  engravings  from  the  i.ayeux  'J'apestry,  and  by  his  ex- 
cellent notes,  Mr.  'I'aylor  has  added  much  to  the  value  and  Interest  of  his 
volume. 

t  'the  Conqueror's  Chaplain  calls  the  Saxon  battle-axes  "  ssevlsstmae 
"•ecures."  i  As  cited  In  the  '  ■  Pictorial  History.' 


SYXOPSIS  OF  EVENTS,  ETC.  17S 

Norman  nations;  a  battle  the  most  memorable  of  all  otLtirs;  and, 
however  miserably  lost,  yet  most  nobly  fought  on  the  part  of  Eng- 
land. 

Many  a  pathetic  legend  was  told  in  aftsr  years  respecting  the 
discovery  and  the  burial  of  the  corpse  of  our  last  Saxon  king.  The 
main  circumstances,  though  they  seem  to  vary,  are  perhaps  recon- 
cilable. *  Two  of  the  monks  of  Waltham  Abbey,  which  Harold  had 
founded  a  little  time  before  his  election  to  the  throne,  had  accom- 
panied him  to  the  battle.  On  the  morning  after  the  slaughter, 
they  begged  and  gained  permission  of  the  Conqueror  to  search  for 
the  body  of  their  benefactor.  The  Norman  soldiery  and  camp- 
followers  liad  stripped  and  gashed  the  slain,  and  the  two  monks 
vainly  strove  to  recognize  from  among  the  mutilated  and  gory 
heaps  around  them  the  features  of  their  former  king.  They  sent 
for  Harold's  mistress,  Edith,  surnamed  "the Fair,"  and  "the  swan- 
necked,"  to  aid  them.  The  eye  of  iove  proved  keener  than  the  eye 
of  gratitude,  and  the  Saxon  lady  even  in  that  Aceldama  knew  her 
Harold. 

The  king's  mother  now  sought  the  victorious  Norman,  and  begged 
the  dead  body  o:'  her  son.  But  William  at  first  answered  in  his 
wrath  and  the  hardness  of  his  heart,  that  a  man  who  had  been 
false  to  his  word  ;.nd  his  religion  should  have  no  other  sepulcher 
than  the  sand  of  tlie  shore.  He  added,  with  a  sneer,  "Harold 
mounted  guard  on  the  coast  while  he  was  alive,  he  may  continue 
his  guard  now  he  is  dead."  Tbetauntwas  an  unintentional  eulogy  ; 
and  a  grave  washed  by  the  spray  of  the  Sussex  waves  would  have 
been  the  noblest  burial-place  lor  the  martyr  of  Saxon  freedom. 
But  Harold's  mother  was  urgent  in  her  lamentations  and  her 
prayers  ;  the  Conqueror  relented  :  like  Achilles,  he  gave  up  tha 
dead  body  of  his  fallen  foe  to  a  parents  supplications,  and  the 
remains  of  King  Harold  were  deposited  with  regal  honors  in  Wal- 
tham  Abbey. 

On  Christmas  day  in  the  same  year  William  the  Conqueror  was 
crowned  at  London  King  of  England, 


Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Hastings,  a.d.  1066, 
AND  Joan  of  Aec's  Victoey  at  Okxeans,  a.d.  1429. 

A.D.  1066-1087.  Eeign  of  William  iae  Conqueror.  Frequent 
risin- s  of  the  English  against  him,  which  are  quelled  with  merci- 
less rigor. 

109G.  The  first  Crusade. 


»  See  them  couected  m  ^ingarrt,  i.,  432,  ai  sea.    Thierry,  i.,  ?99;  Sharer. 
■Turner,  t.,  82;  and  Ulstolre  de  Normandle,  par  Liejruet,  p.  242. 


1 76  DECISIVE  BA  TTLES. 

1112.  Commencement  of  the  disputes  about  investurea  between 
the  emperors  and  the  jjopes. 

1140.  Foundation  of  the  city  of  Lubec,  whence  originated  the 
Hanseatic  League.  Commencement  of  the  feuds  in  Italy  between 
the  Guelfs  and  the  Ghibellines. 

1146.  The  second  Crusade. 

1154.  Henry  II.  becomes  King  of  England.  Under  him  Thomas 
a  Becket  is  made  Archbishoi)  of  Canterbury  :  the  first  instance  of 
any  man  of  the  Saxon  race  being  raised  to  high  ofifice  in  Church  or 
State  since  the  Conquest. 

1170.  Strongbow,  Earl  of  Pembroke,  lands  with  an  English  army 
in  Ireland. 

1189.  Kichard  CcEur  de  Lion  becomes  Ring  of  England.  He 
and  King  Philii^  Augustus  of  France  join  in  the  third  Crusade. 

1199-1204.  On  the  death  of  King  Richard,  his  brother  John 
claims  and  makes  himself  master  of  England  and  Normandy,  and 
the  other  large  continental  possessions  of  the  early  Plantagenet 
princes.  Philip  Aiagustus  asserts  the  cause  of  Prince  Arthur,  John's 
nephew,  against  him.  Arthur  is  murdered,  but  the  French  king 
continues  the  war  against  John,  and  conquers  from  him  Normandy, 
Brittany,  Anjou,  Maine,  Touraine,  and  Poictiers. 

1215.  The  barons,  the  freeholders,  the  citizens,  and  the  yeomen 
of  England  rise  against  the  tyranny  of  John  and  his  foreign  favor- 
ites. They  compel  him  to  sign  Magna  Charta.  This  is  the 
commencement  of  our  nationality:  for  our  history  from  this  time 
forth  is  the  history  of  a  national  lil^,  then  complete  and  still  in 
being.  All  English  history  before  this  period  is  a  mere  history  of 
elements,  of  their  collisions,  and  of  the  processes  of  their  fusion. 
For  upward  of  a  century  after  the  Conquest,  Anglo-Norman  and 
Anglo-Saxon  had  kept  aloof  from  each  other:  the  one  in  haughty 
scorn,  the  other  in  sullen  abhorrence.  They  were  two  peoples, 
though  living  in  the  same  land.  It  is  not  until  the  thirteenth 
century,  the  period  of  the  reigns  of  John  and  his  son  and  grand- 
son, that  we  can  perceive  the  existence  of  any  feeling  of  common 
nationality  among  them.  But  in  studying  the  history  of  these 
reigns,  we  read  of  the  old  dissensions  no  longer.  The  Saxon  no 
more  appears  in  civil  war  against  the  Norman,  the  Norman  no 
longer  scorns  the  language  of  the  Saxon,  or  refuses  to  bear  together 
with  him  the  name  of  Englishman.  No  part  of  the  community 
think  themselves  foreigners  to  another  part.  They  feel  that  they 
are  all  one  people,  and  they  have  learned  to  unite  their  efforts 
for  the  common  purpose  of  protecting  the  rights  and  promoting 
the  welfare  of  all.  The  fortunate  loss  of  the  Duchy  of  Normandy 
in  John's  reign  greatly  promoted  these  new  feelings.  Thenceforth 
our  barons'  only  homes  were  in  England.  One  language  had,  in 
the  reign  of  Henry  III.,  become  the  language  of  the  land,  and 
that,  also,  had  then  assumed  the  form  in  which  we  still  possess  it. 
One  law,  in  the  eye  of  which  all  freemen  are  equal  without  dis- 


SYNOPSIS  OF  EVENTS,  ETO.  177 

tinction  of  race,  was  modeled,  and  steadily  enforced,  and  still 
continues  to  form  the  ground-work  of  our  judicial  system.* 

1273.  Rodolph  of  Hapsburg  chosen  Emperor  of  Germanj\ 

1283.  Edward  I.  conquers  Wales. 

1346.  Edward  III.  invades  France,  and  gains  the  battle  of  Cressy. 

1356.  Battle  of  Poictiers. 

1360.  Treaty  of  Bretigny  between  England  and  France.  By  it 
Edward  III.  renounces  his  pretensions  to  the  French  crown.  The 
treaty  is  ill  kept,  and  indecisive  hostilities  continue  between  the 
forces  of  the  two  countries. 

1414.  Henry  V.  of  England  claims  the  crown  of  France,  and 
resolves  to  invade  and  conquer  that  kingdom.  At  this  time  France 
was  in  the  most  deplorable  state  of  weakness  and  sufl'ering,  from 
the  factions  that  raged  among  her  nobility,  and  from  the  cruel 
oppressions  which  the  rival  nobles  practiced  on  the  mass  of  the 
community.  "The  people  were  exhausted  by  taxes,  civil  wars, 
and  military  executions;  and  they  bad  fallen  into  that  worst  of  all 
states  of  mind,  when  the  independence  of  one's  country  is  thought 
no  longer  a  paramount  and  sacred  object.  '  What  can  the  English 
do  to  us  worse  than  the  thing  we  suffer  at  the  hands  of  our  own 
princes } '  was  a  common  exclamation  among  the  poor  people  of 
France."! 

1415.  Henry  invades  France,  takes  Harfleur,  and  wins  the  great 
battle  of  Agincourt. 

1417-1419,  Henry  conquers  Normandy.  The  French  Dauphin 
assassinates  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  the  most  powerfial  of  the 
French  nobles,  at  Montereau.  The  successor  of  the  murdered 
duke  becomes  the  active  ally  of  the  Enghsh. 

1420.  The  treaty  of  Troj'es  is  concluded  between  Henry  V.  of 
England  and  Charles  VI.  of  France,  and  Philip  duke  of  Burgiindy. 
By  this  treaty  it  \-vas  stipulated  that  Henry  should  marry  the 
Princess  Catharine  of  France;  that  King  Charles,  diiring  his  life- 
time, should  keep  the  title  and  dignity  of  King  of  France,  but 
that  Henry  should  succeed  him,  and  should  at  once  be  intrusted 
with  the  administration  of  the  government,  and  that  the  French 
crown  should  descend  to  Henry's  heirs;  that  France  and  England 
should  forever  be  united  under  one  king,  but  should  still  retain 
their  several  usages,  customs,  and  privileges;  that  all  the  princes, 
peers,  vassals,  and  communities  of  France  should  swear  allegiance 
to  Henry  as  their  future  king,  and  should  pay  him  present  obedi- 
ence as  regent.  That  Henry  should  unite  his  arms  to  those  of 
King  Charles  imd  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  in  order  to  subdue  the 
adherents  of  Charles,  the  pretended  dauphin;  and  that  these  three 
princes  should  make  no  peace  or  truce  with  the  dauphin  but  by 
the  common  consent  of  all  three. 

•  "  Creaeys  Text  Book  of  the  Constitution,"  p.  4. 
t  "  Pictorial  Hist,  ol  Ec^land,"  toI.  1.,  p.  w. 


178  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

1421.  Henry  V.  gains  several  victories  over  the  French,  who 
refuse  to  acknowledge  the  treaty  of  Troyes,  His  son,  afterward 
Henry  VI.,  is  born. 

1422.  Henry  V.  and  Charles  YI.  of  France  die.  Henry  VI.  is 
proclaimed  at  Paris  King  of  England  and  France.  The  followers 
of  the  French  dauphin  proclaim  him  Charles  VII.,  king  of  France. 
The  Duke  of  Bedford,  the  English  regent  in  France,  defeats  the 
army  of  the  dauphin  at  Crevant. 

1424.  The  Duke  of  Bedford  gains  tbe  great  victory  of  Verneuil 
over  the  French  partisans  of  the  dauphin  and  their  Scotch  aux- 
iliaries. 

1428.  The  English  begin  the  siege  of  Orleans. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

JOAN  OF  AEC'S  VICTOET  OVEE  THE  ENGLISH  AT  OELEANS,  A.D.  1429. 

The  eyes  of  all  Europe  were  turned  toward  this  scene,  where  It  was  rea» 
sonably  supposed  the  French  were  to  make  their  last  stand  for  maintaining' 
the  Independence  of  their  monarchy  and  the  rights  of  their  sovereign.— 
Home. 

When,  after  their  victory  at  Salamis,  the  generals  of  the  various 
Greek  states  voted  the  prizes  for  distinguished  individual  merit, 
each  assigned  the  first  place  of  excellence  to  himself,  but  they  all 
concurred  in  giving  their  second  votes  to  Themistocles.*  This  was 
looked  on  as  a  decisive  proof  that  Themistocles  ought  to  be  ranked 
first  of  all.  If  we  were  to  endeavor,  by  a  similar  test,  to  ascertain 
which  European  nation  had  contributed  the  most  to  the  progress 
of  European  civilization,  we  should  find  Italy,  Germany,  England, 
and  Spain  each  claiming  the  first  degree,  but  each  also  naming 
France  as  clearly  next  in  merit.  It  is  impossible  to  deny  her  par- 
amount importance  in  history.  Besides  the  formidable  part  that 
she  has  for  nearly  three  centuries  played,  as  the  Bellona  of  the 
European  commonwealth  of  states,  her  influence  during  all  this 
period  over  the  arts,  the  literature,  the  manners,  and  the  feelings  of 
mankind,  has  been  such  as  to  makethecrisisof  her  earlier  fortunes 
a  point  of  world-wide  interest  ;  and  it  may  be  asserted,  without 
exaggeration,  that  the  future  career  of  every  nation  was  involved 
in  the  result  of  the  struggle  by  which  the  unconscious  heroine  of 
France,  in  the  beginning  of  the  fifteenth  century,  rescued  her 
country  from  becoming  a  second  Ireland  under  the  yoke  of  the 
triumphant  English. 

*  Plutarch,  Vlt.  Them.,  17. 


JOAN  OF  ARC'S  VICTOR F  AT  ORLEANS.  179 

Seldom  has  the  extinction  of  a  nation's  independence  appeared 
more  inevitable  than  was  the  case  in  France  when  the  English 
invaders  completed  their  lines  round  Orleans,  four  hundred  and 
twentj'-two  years  ago.  A  series  of  dreadful  defeats  had  thinned 
the  chivalry  of  France,  and  daunted  the  spirits  of  her  soldiers.  A 
foreign  king  had  been  proclaimed  in  her  capital ;  and  foreign  armies 
of  the  bravest  veterans,  and  led  by  the  ablest  captains  then  known 
in  the  world,  occupied  the  fairest  portions  of  her  territory.  Worse 
to  her,  even,  than  the  fierceness  and  the  strength  of  her  foes,  were 
the  factions,  the  vices  and  the  crimes  of  her  own  children.  Hei 
native  prince  was  a  dissolute  trifler,  stained  with  assassination  of 
the  most  powerful  noble  of  the  land,  whose  son,  in  revenge,  had 
leagxied  himself  with  the  enemy.  Many  more  of  her  nobility, 
many  of  her  prelates,  her  magistrates,  and  rulers,  had  sworn  fealty 
to  the  English  king.  The  condition  of  the  peasantry  amid  the 
general  prevalence  of  anarchy  and  brigandage,  which  were  added 
to  the  customary  devastations  of  contending  armies,  was  wretched 
beyond  the  power  of  language  to  describe.  The  sense  of  terror 
and  wretchedness  seemed  to  have  extended  itself  even  to  the  brute 
creation. 

' '  In  sooth,  the  estate  of  France  was  then  most  miserable.  There 
appeared  nothing  but  a  horrible  face,  confusion,  poverty,  desola- 
tion, solitarinesse;  and  feare.  The  lean  and  bare  laborers  in  the 
country  did  terrifie  even  theeves  themselves,  who  had  nothing  left 
them  to  spoile  but  the  carkasses  of  these  poore  miserable  creatures, 
wandering  up  and  down  like  ghostes  drawne  out  of  their  graves. 
The  least  farmes  and  hamlets  were  fortiiied  by  these  robbers,  Eng- 
lish, Bourguegnons,  and  French,  every  one  striving  to  do  his 
worst :  all  men-of-war  were  well  agreed  to  spoile  the  coiantryman 
and  merchant.  Even  the  caUell,  accustonied  io  the  kmuvebeli,  thesigne 
of  the  enemy's  approach,  would  run  home  nf  tliemseh-es  icithout  any 
guide  by  this  accustomed  misery."* 

In  the  autumn  of  1428,  the  English,  who  were  already  masters  of 
all  France  north  of  the  Loire,  prepared  their  foi-ces  for  the  conquest 
of  the  southern  provinces,  which  yet  adhered  to  the  cause  of  the 
dauphin.  The  city  of  Orleans,  on  the  banks  of  that  river,  w.s 
looked  upon  as  the  last  stronghold  of  the  French  national  i^arty. 
If  the  English  could  once  obtain  possession  of  it  their  victorious 
progress  through  the  residue  of  the  kingdom  seemed  free  from  ary 
serious  obstacle.  Accordingly  the  Earl  of  Salisbury,  one  of  the 
bravest  and  most  experienced  of  the  English  generals,  who  had 
been  trained  under  Henry  Y.,  marched  to  the  attack  of  the  all-im- 
portant city  ;  and,  after  reducing  several  places  of  inferior  conse- 
quence in  the  neighborhood,  appeared  with  his  army  before  its 
walls  on  the  12th  of  October,  1428. 

The  city  of  Orleans  itself  was  on  the  north  side  of  the  Loire,  but 

•  De  Serres,  quoted  In  the  Notes  to  Southey's  "  Joan  of  Arc." 


180  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

its  suburbs  extended  far  on  the  southern  side,  and  a  strong  bridge 
connected  them  with  the  town.  A  fortification,  which  in  modern 
military  phrase  would  be  termed  a  tete-du-jiont,  defended  the 
bridge  head  on  the  southern  side,  and  two  towers,  called  the 
Tourelles,  were  built  on  the  bridge  itself,  at  a  little  distance  from 
the  tete-du-pont.  Indeed,  the  solid  masonry  of  the  bridge  termin- 
ated at  the  Tourelles;  and  the  communication  thence  with  the  tete- 
du-pont  and  the  southern  shore  was  by  means  of  a  draw-bridge. 
The  Tourelles  and  the  tete-du-pont  formed  together  a  strong  forti- 
fied post,  capable  of  containing  a  garrison  of  considerable  strength; 
and  so  long  as  this  was  in  possession  of  the  Orleannais,  they  could 
communicate  freely  with  the  southern  provinces,  the  inhabitants 
of  which,  like  the  Orleannais  themselves,  supported  the  cause  of 
their  daujahin  against  the  foreigners.  Lord  Salisbury  rightly  judged 
the  capture  of  the  Tourelles  to  be  the  most  material  step  toward 
the  reduction  of  the  city  itself.  Accordingly,  he  directed  his 
principal  operations  against  this  post,  and  after  some  severe 
repulses,  he  carried  the  Tourelles  by  storm  on  the  23d  of  October. 
The  French,  however,  broke  down  the  arches  of  the  bridge  that 
were  nearest  to  the  north  bank,  and  thus  rendered  a  direct  assault 
from  the  Tourelles  upon  the  city  impossible.  But  the  possession 
of  this  post  enabled  the  English  to  distress  the  town  greatly  by  a 
battery  of  cannon  which  they  planted  there,  and  which  commanded 
some  of  the  principal  streets. 

It  has  been  observed  by  Hume  that  this  is  the  first  siege  in  which 
any  important  use  appears  to  have  been  made  of  artillery.  And 
even  at  Orleans  both  besiegers  and  besieged  seem  to  have  employed 
their  cannons  merely  as  instruments  of  destruction  against  their 
enemy's  wen,  and  not  to  have  trusted  them  as  engines  of  demoli- 
tion against  their  enemy's  walls  and  works.  The  eflficacy  ot  cannon 
in  breaching  solid  masonry  was  taught  Europe  by  the  Turks  a  few 
years  afterward,  in  the  memorable  siege  of  Constantinople.*  In 
our  French  wars,  as  in  the  wars  of  the  classic  nations,  famine  was, 
looked  on  as  the  surest  weapon  to  compel  the  submission  of  a  well- 
walled  town  ;  and  the  great  object  of  the  besiegei's  was  to  effect  a 
complete  circumvallation.  The  great  ambit  of  the  walls  of  Trleans, 
and  the  facilities  which  the  river  gave  for  obtaining  success  and 
supplies,  rendered  the  capture  of  the  town  by  this  process  a  matter 
of  great  difficulty.  Nevertheless,  Lord  Salisbury,  and  Lord  Suflblk, 
who  succeeded  him  in  command  of  the  English  after  his  death  by  a 
cannon  ball,  carried  on  the  necessary  work  with  great  skill  and 
resolution.  Six  strongly-fortified  posts,  called  bastilles,  were 
formed  at  certain  intervals  round  the  town,  and  the  purpose  of  the 
English  engineers  was  to  draw  strong  lines  between  them.  During 
the  winter  little  progress  was  made  with  the  entrenchments,  but 

*  The  occasional  employment  of  artillery  against  slight  delenses,  as  at 
J&rgeaujp  1<129,  is  no  real  exception. 


JOAN  OF  ARC'S  VICTORY  AT  ORLEANS.  181 

when  the  spring  of  1429  came,  the  English  resumed  their  work  with 
activity  ;  the  communications  between  the  city  and  the  country 
became  more  difficult,  and  the  approach  of  want  began  already  to 
be  felt  in  Orleans. 

The  besieging  force  also  fared  hardly  for  stores  and  provisions, 
until  relieved  by  the  effects  of  a  brilliant  victory  which  Sir  John 
Fastolfe,  one  of  the  best  English  generals,  gained  at  Rouvrai,  near 
Orleans,  a  few  days  after  Ash  Wednesday,  1429.  With  only  six- 
teen hundred  fighting  men.  Sir  John  completely  defeated  an  army 
of  French  and  Scots,  four  thousand  strong,  which  had  been  col- 
lected for  the  purpose  of  aiding  the  Orleannais  and  harassing  the 
besiegers.  After  this  encounter,  which  seemed  decisively  to  con- 
firm the  superioritj'  of  the  English  in  battle  over  their  adversaries, 
Fastolfe  escorted  large  supplies  of  stores  and  food  to  Suffolk's  camp 
and  the  spirits  of  the  English  rose  to  the  highest  pitch  at  the  pros- 
pect of  the  speedy  capture  of  the  city  before  them,  and  the  conse- 
quent subjection  of  all  France  beneath  their  arms. 

The  Orleannais  now,  in  their  distress,  ofiered  to  surrender  the 
city  into  the  hands  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  who,  though  the  ally 
of  the  English,  was  yet  one  of  their  native  princes.  The  Regent 
Bedford  refused  these  terms,  and  the  speedy  submission  of  the 
city  to  the  English  seemed  inevitable.  The  Dauphin  Charles, 
who  was  now  at  Chinon  with  his  remnant  of  a  court  despaired  of 
continuing  any  longer  the  struggle  for  his  crown,  and  was  only 
prevented  from  abandoning  the  country  by  the  more  masculine 
spirits  of  his  mistress  and  his  queen.  Yet  neither  they  nor  the 
boldest  of  Charles's  captains,  could  have  shown  him  where  to  find 
resources  for  prolonging  the  war  ;  and  least  of  all  could  any 
human  skill  have  predicted  the  quarter  whence  rescue  was  to  come 
to  Orleans  and  to  France. 

In  the  village  of  Domremy,  on  the  borders  of  Lorraine,  there 
was  a  poor  peasant  of  the  name  of  Jacques  d'Arc,  respected  in  his 
station  of  life,  and  who  had  reared  a  family  in  virtuous  habits  and 
in  the  practice  of  the  strictest  devotion.  His  eldest  daughter  was 
named  by  her  jjarents  Jeannette,  but  she  was  called  Jeanne  by  the 
French,  which  was  Latinized  into  Johanna,  and  Anglicized  into 
Joan.  * 

At  the  time  when  Joan  first  attracted  attention,  she  was  about 
eighteen  years  of  age.  She  was  naturally  of  a  susceptible  disposi- 
tion, which  diligent  attention  to  the  legends  of  saints  and  tales  of 
fairies,  aided  by  the  dreamy  loDeliness  of  her  life  while  tending 
her  father's  flocks.f  had  made  peculiarly  prone  to  enthusiastic  fer- 

•  "  Respondlt  quod  In  partlbus  buIs  vocabatur  Johanneta,  et  postquam 
venlt  In  Franclam  vocata  est  .lohanna."— Proces  de  Jeanne  d'  Arc.  1.,  p.  46 

t  Southey,  In  one  of  the  speeclies  which  he  puts  In  the  mouth  of  Joan  of 
Arc,  has  made  her  beautifully  describe  the  effect  on  her  mind  of  the  scenery 
In  which  she  dwelt. 

"  Here  In  solitude  and  peace 


182  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

vor.  At  the  same  time  she  was  eminent  for  piety  and  purity  of 
soul,  and  for  her  compassionate  gentleness  to  the  sick  and  the  dis- 
tressed. 

The  district  where  she  dwelt  had  escaped  comparatively  free 
from  the  ravages  of  war,  but  the  approach  of  roving  bands  of  Bur- 
gundian  or  English  troops  frequently  spread  terror  through  Dom- 
remy.  Once  the  village  had  been  plundered  by  some  of  these 
marauders,  and  Joan  and  her  family  had  been  driven  from  their 
home,  and  forced  to  seek  refuge  for  a  time  at  Neufchateau.  The 
peasantry  in  Domremy  were  principally  attached  to  the  house  of 
Orleans  and  the  dauphin,  and  all  the  miseries  which  France  en- 
dured were  there  imputed  to  the  Burgundian  faction  and  their 
allies,  the  English,  who  were  seeking  to  enslave  unhappy  France. 

Thiis,  from  infancy  to  girlhood.  Joan  had  heard  continually  of 
the  woes  of  the  war,  and  had  herself  witnessed  some  of  tke 
wretchedness  that  it  caused.  A  feeling  of  intense  patriotism 
grew  in  her  with  her  growth.  The  deliverance  of  France  from  the 
English  was  the  subject  of  her  reveries  by  day  and  her  dreams 
by  night.  Blended  with  these  aspirations  were  recollections  of 
the  miraculous  interpositions  of  Heaven  in  favor  of  the  oppressed, 
which  she  had  learned  from  the  legends  of  her  church.  Her  faith 
was  undoubting  ;  her  prayers  were  fervent.  "She  feared  no  dan- 
ger, for  she  felt  no  sin,"  and  at  length  she  believed  herself  to 
have  received  the  supernatural  inspiration  which  she  sought. 

According  to  her  own  narrative,  delivered  by  her  to  her  merciless 
inquisitors  in  the  time  of  her  captivity  and  approaching  death,  she 
was  about  thirteen  years  old  when  her  revelations  commenced. 
Her  own  words  describe  them  best.*  "At  the  age  of  thirteen,  a 
voice  from  God  came  to  her  to  help  her  in  ruling  herself,  and  that 


My  soul  was  nursed,  amid  the  loveliest  scenes 

Of  unpolluted  nature.    Sweet  it  was, 

As  the  white  mists  of  morning  roll'd  away. 

To  see  the  mountain's  wooded  heights  appear 

Dark  in  the  early  dawn,  and  mark  its  slope 

With  gor.se-flowers  glowing,  as  the  rising  sun 

On  the  golden  ripeness  pour'd  a  deepening  light, 

Pleasant  at  noon  be.slde  the  vocal  brook 

To  lay  me  down,  and  wati^h  the  floating  clouds, 

And  shape  to  Fancy's  wild  simlhtudes 

Their  ever  varying  forms ;  and  oh  !  how  sweet, 

To  drive  my  Hock  at  evening  to  the  fold. 

And  hasten  to  our  little  hut.  and  hear 

The  voice  of  kindness  hid  me  welcome  home." 

The  only  foundation  for  the  story  told  hy  the  Burgimdlan  partisan,  Mon- 
strelet,  and  adopted  hy  Hume,  of  Joan  having  been  brought  up  as  a  servant, 
is  the  circumstance  of  her  having  been  once,  with  the  rest  of  her  family, 
obliged  to  take  refuge  In  an  auberae.  in  Neufchateau  for  fifteen  days,  when  a 
party  of  Burgundian  cavalry  made  an  Incursion  Into  Domremy.    (See  the 


JOAN  OF  ARC'S  VICTOR  Y  AT  ORLEANS.  183 

voice  came  to  her  about  the  hoTir  of  noon,  in  summer  time,  while 
she  was  in  her  father's  garden.  And  she  had  fasted  the  day  before. 
And  she  heard  the  voice  on  her  right,  in  the  direction  of  the 
churcli  ;  and  when  she  heard  the  voice,  she  saw  also  a  bright 
light."  Afterward  St.  Michael,  and  St.  Margaret,  and  St.  Catha- 
rine appeared  to  her.  They  were  always  in  a  halo  of  glory  ; 
she  could  see  that  their  heads  were  crowned  with  jewels ; 
and  she  heard  their  voices,  which  were  sweet  and  mild.  She 
did  not  distinguish  their  arms  or  limbs.  She  heard  them 
more  frequently  than  she  saw  them ;  and  the  usual  time 
when  she  heard  them  was  when  the  church  bells  were  sounding 
for  prayer.  And  if  she  was  in  the  woods  when  she  heard  them, 
she  could  plainlv  distinguish  their  voices  drawing  near  to  her. 
When  she  theught  that  she  discerned  the  Heavenly  Voices,  she 
knelt  down,  and  bowed  herself  to  the  grotmd.  'J  heir  presence 
gladdened  her  even  to  tears  ;  and  after  they  departed,  she  wept  be- 
cause they  had  not  taken  her  back  to  Paradise.  They  always 
spoke  soothingly  to  her.  They  told  her  that  France  woi;ld  be 
saved,  and  that  she  was  to  save  it.  Such  were  the  visions  and  the 
voices  tliat  moved  the  spirit  of  the  girl  of  thirteen  ;  and  as  she 
grew  older,  they  became  more  frequent  and  more  clear.  At  last 
the  tidings  of  the  siege  of  Orleans  reached  Domremy.  Joan  heard 
her  parents  and  neighbors  talk  of  the  sufferings  of  its  population, 
of  the  niin  which  its  capture  would  bring  on  their  lawful  sovereign, 
and  of  the  distress  of  the  dauphin  and  his  court.  Joan's  heart 
was  sorely  troubled  at  the  thought  of  the  fate  of  Orleans  ;  and  her 
Voices  now  ordered  her  to  leave  her  home  ;  and  warned  her  that 
she  was  the  instrument  chosen  by  Heaven  for  driving  away  the 
English  from  that  city,  and  for  taking  the  dauphin  to  be  anointed 
king  of  the  Kheims.  At  length  she  informed  her  parents  of  her 
divine  mission,  and  told  them  that  she  must  go  to  the  Sire  de 
Baudricourt,  who  commanded  at  Vaucouleurs,  and  who  was  the 
appointed  person  to  bring  her  into  the  presence  of  the  king, 
whom  she  was  to  save.  Neither  the  anger  nor  the  grief  of  her 
parents,  who  said  they  would  rather  see  her  drowned  than  exposed 
to  the  contamination  of  the  camp,  could  move  her  from  her  pur- 
pose. One  of  her  uncles  consented  to  take  her  to  Vaucouleurs, 
where  De  Baudricourt  at  first  thought  her  mad,  and  derided  her  , 
but  by  degrees  he  was  led  to  believe,  if  not  in  her  inspiration,  at 
least  in  her  enthusiasm,  and  in  its  possible  utility  to  the  dauphinS* 
cause. 

The  inhabitants  of  Vaucouleurs  were  completely  won  over  to  her 
side  by  the  piety  and  devoutness  which  she  displayed,  and  by  her 
firm  assurance  in  the  truth  of  her  mission.  She  told  them  that 
it  was  God's  will  that  she  should  go  to  the  king,  and  that  no  one 
but  her  could  save  the  kingdom  of  France.  She  said  that  she  her- 
self would  rather  remain  with  her  poor  mother,  and  spin  ;  but  the 
Lord  had  ordered  her  foi-th.    The  fame  of  "  The  Maid,"  if?  she  was 


184  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

termed,  the  renown  of  her  holiness,  and  of  her  mission,  spread  far 
and  wide.  Baudricourt  sent  her  with  an  escort  to  Chinon,  where 
the  Dauphin  Charles  was  dallying  away  his  time.  Her  Voices  had 
bidden  her  assume  the  arms  and  the  apparel  of  a  knight ;  and  the 
wealthiest  inhabitant  of  Vaucouleurs  had  vied  with  each  other  in 
equipping  her  with  war-horse,  armor,  and  sword.  On  reaching 
'Chinon,  she  was,  after  some  delay,  admitted  into  the  presence  of 
the  daujDhin.  Charles  designedly  dressed  himself  far  less  richly 
than  many  of  his  courtiers  were  appareled,  and  mingled  with 
them,  when  Joan  was  introduced  in  order  to  see  if  the  Holy  Maid 
would  address  her  exhortations  to  the  wrong  person.  But  she  in- 
stantly singled  him  out,  and  kneeling  before  him,  said,  "Most 
noble  dauphin,  the  King  of  Heaven  announces  to  you  by  me  that 
you  shall  be  anointed  and  crowned  king  in  the  city  of  Eheims, 
and  that  you  shall  be  his  viceregent  in  France."  His  features  may 
probably  have  been  seen  by  her  previously  in  portraits,  or  have 
been  described  to  her  by  others  ;  but  she  herself  believed  that  her 
Voices  inspired  her  when  she  addressed  the  king  ;*  and  the  report 
soon  spread  abroad  that  the  Holy  Maid  had  found  the  king  by  a 
miracle  ;  and  this,  with  many  other  similar  rumors,  augmented 
the  renown  and  influence  that  she  now  rapidly  acquired. 

The  state  of  public  feeling  in  France  was  now  favorable  to  an 
enthusiastic  belief  in  a  divine  interposition  in  favor  of  the  party 
that  had  hitherto  been  unsuccessful  and  oppressed.  The  h^^mil. 
iations  which  had  befallen  the  French  royal  family  and  nobility 
were  looked  on  as  the  just  judgments  of  God  upon  them  for  their 
vice  and  impiety.  The  misfortunes  that  had  come  upon  France 
as  a  nation  wei'e  believed  to  have  been  drawn  down  by  national 
sins.  The  English,  who  had  been  the  instruments  of  Heaven's 
wrath  against  France,  seemed  now,  by  their  pride  and  cruelty,  to 
be  fitting  objects  of  it  themselves.  France  in  that  age  was  a  pro- 
foundly religious  country.  There  was  ignorance,  there  was  su- 
perstition, there  was  bigotry;  but  there  was  Faith — a  faith  that 
itself  worked  true  miracles,  even  while  it  believed  in  unreal  ones. 
At  this  time,  also  one  of  those  devotional  movements  began  among 
the  clergy  in  France,  which  from  time  to  time  occur  in  national 
churches,  without  it  being  possible  for  the  historian  to  assign  any 
adequate  human  cause  for  their  immediate  date  or  extension. 
Numberless  friars  and  priests  traversed  the  rural  districts  and 
towns  of  France,  preaching  to  the  people  that  they  must  seek  from 
Heaven  a  deliverance  from  the  pillages  of  the  soldiery  and  the  in- 
solence of  the  foreign  oppressors,  f  The  idea  of  a  Providence 
that  works  only  by  general  laws  was  wholly  alien  to  the  feelings 
of  the  age.  Every  political  event  as  well  as  every  natural  pheno- 
menon, was  believed  to  be  the  immediate  result  of  a  special  man- 

•  "  Proces  de  Jeanne  d'Arc,"  vol.  1.,  p.  56. 

t  See  Slamondl,  vol.  xlll.,  p.  lU;  Mlchelet,  vol.  v.,  livre,  2. 


JOAN  OF  ARC'S  VICTORY  AT  ORLEANS.  185 

date  of  God.  This  led  to  the  belief  that  his  holy  angels  and 
saints  were  constantly  employed  in  executing  his  commands  and 
mingling  in  the  atiairs  of  men.  The  Church  encouraged  these 
feelings,  and  at  the  same  time  sanctioned  the  concurrent  popular 
belief  tliat  hosts  of  evil  spirits  were  also  ever  actively  interposing 
in  the  current  of  earthly  events,  with  whom  sorcerers  and  wizards 
could  league  themselves,  and  thereby  obtain  the  exercise  of  super- 
natural power. 

Thus  all  things  favored  the  influence  which  Joan  obtained  both 
over  friends  and  foes.  The  Fz'ench  nation  as  well  as  the  English 
and  the  Burgundians,  readily  admitted  that  superhuman  beings 
inspired  her;  the  only  question  was  whether  these  beings  were 
good  or  evil  angels;  whether  she  brought  with  her  "rirs  from 
heaven  or  blasts  from  hell."  This  question  seemed  to  her  coun- 
trymen to  be  decisively  settled  in  her  favor  by  the  austere  sanctity 
of  her  life,  by  the  holiness  of  her  conversation,  but  still  more  by 
her  exemplary  attention  to  all  the  services  and  rites  of  the  Church. 
The  dauphin  at  first  feared  the  injury  that  might  be  done  to  his 
cause  if  he  laid  himself  open  to  the  charge  of  having  leagued  him- 
self with  a  sorceress.  Every  imaginable  test  therefore,  was  resorted 
to  in  order  to  set  Joan's  orthodoxy  and  purity  bej-ond  suspicion. 
At  last  Charles  and  his  advisers  felt  safe  in  accepting  her  services  as 
those  of  a  true  and  Aartuous  Christian  daughter  of  the  Holy  Church. 

It  is  indeed  probable  that  Charles  himself  and  some  of  his  coun- 
selors may  have  suspected  Joan  of  being  a  mere  enthusiast,  and 
it  is  certain  that  Dunois,  and  others  of  the  best  generals,  took 
considerable  latitude  in  obeying  or  deviating  from  the  military 
orders  that  she  gave.  But  over  the  mass  of  the  people  and  the 
soldiery  her  influence  was  unbounded.  While  Charles  and  his 
doctors  of  theology,  and  court  ladies,  had  been  deliberating  as  to 
recognizing  or  dismissing  the  Maid,  a  considerable  period  had 
passed  away,  dv;ring  which  a  small  army,  the  last  gleamings,  as  it 
seemed,  of  the  English  sword,  had  been  assembled  at  Blois,  un- 
der Dunois,  La  Hire,  XaintraiUes,  and  other  chiefs,  who  to  their 
natural  valor  were  now  beginning  to  unite  the  wisdom  that  is 
taught  by  misfortune.  It  was  resolved  to  send  Joan  with  this 
force  and  a  convoy  of  provisions  to  Orleans.  The  distress  of  that 
city  had  now  become  urgent.  But  the  communication  with  the 
open  country  was  not  entirely  ciit  oft' :  the  Orleannais  had  heard 
of  the  Holy  Maid  whom  Providence  had  raised  up  for  their  deliv- 
erance, and  their  messengers  earnestly  implored  the  dauphin  to 
send  her  to  them  without  delay. 

Joan  appeared  at  the  camp  at  Blois,  clad  in  a  new  suit  of  bril- 
liant white  armor,  mounted  on  a  stately  black  war-horse,  and  with 
a  lance  in  her  right  hand,  which  she  had  learned  to  wield  with 
skill  and   grace.*      Her  head  was  unhelmeted ;  so  that  all  could 

•  See  the  description  of  her  by  Gul  de  Laval,  quoted  In  the  note  to  Mlche- 


186  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

behold  her  fair  and  expressive  features,  her  deep-set  and  earnest 
eyes,  and  her  long  black  hair,  which  was  parted  across  her  fore- 
head, and  bound  by  a  ribbon  behind  her  back.  She  wore  at  her 
side  a  small  battle-axe,  and  the  consecrated  sword  marked  on  the 
blade  with  live  crosses,  which  had  at  her  bidding  been  taken  for 
her  from  the  shrine  of  St.  Catharine  at  Fierbois.  A  page  carried 
her  banner,  which  she  had  caused  to  be  made  and  embroidered  as 
htr  Voices  enjoined.  It  was  white  satin,*  strewn  with  fleurs-de-lis; 
and  on  it  were  the  words,  "  Jhesus  Makia,"  and  the  representa- 
tion of  the  Saviour  in  his  glory.  Joan  afterward  generally  bore 
her  banner  herself  in  battle;  she  said  that  though  she  loved  her 
Bword  much,  she  loved  her  banner  forty  times  as  much;  and  she 
loved  to  carry  it,  because  it  could  not  kill  any  one. 

Thus  accoutered,  she  came  to  lead  the  troops  of  France,  who 
looked  with  soldierly  admiration  on  her  well-i^roportioned  and 
upright  figure,  the  skill  with  which  she  managed  her  war-horse, 
and  the  easy  grace  with  which  she  handled  her  weapons.  Her 
military  education  had  been  short,  but  she  had  availed  herself 
of  it  well.  She  had  also  the  good  sense  to  interfere  little  with 
the  maneuvers  of  the  troops,  leaving  these  things  to  Dunois,  and 
others  whom  she  had  the  discernment  to  recognize  as  the  best 
officers  in  the  camp.  Her  tactics  in  action  were  simple  enough. 
As  she  herself  described  it,  "I  used  to  say  to  them,  'Go  boldly 
in  among  the  English,'  and  then  I  used  to  go  boldly  in  myself."t 
Such,  as  she  told  her  inquisitors,  was  the  only  spell  she  used,  and 
it  was  one  of  power.  But  while  interfering  little  with  the  mili- 
tary discipline  of  the  troops,  in  all  matters  of  moral  discipline  she 
was  inflexibly  strict.  All  the  abandoned  followers  of  the  camp 
were  driven  away.  She  compelled  both  generals  and  soldiers  to 
attend  regularly  at  confessional.  Her  chaplain  and  other  priests 
marched  with  the  army  under  her  orders;  and  at  every  halt,  an 
altar  M'as  set  up  and  the  sacrament  administered.  No  oath  or 
foul  language  passed  without  punishment  or  censure.  Even  the 
roughest  and  most  hardened  veterans  obeyed  her.  They  put  ofi" 
for  a  time  the  bestial  coarseness  which  had  grown  on  them  dur- 
ing a  life  of  bloodshed  and  rapine;  they  felt  that  they  must  go 
forth  in  a  new  spirit  to  a  new  career,  and  acknowledged  the 
beauty  of  tbe  holiness  in  which  the  heaven-sent  Maid  was  leading 
them  to  certain  victorj'. 

Joan  marched  from  Blois  on  the  25th  of  April  with  a  convoy  of 
provisions  for  Orleans,  accompanied  by  Dunois,  La  Hire,  and  the 
other  chief  captains  of  the  French,  and  on  the  evening  of  the  28th 
they  approached  the  town.     In  the  words  of  the  old  chronicler 

let,  p.  69 ;  and  see  the  account  of  the  banner  at  Orleans,  which  Is  believed 
to  bear   an  authentic  portrait  of  the  Maid,  In  Murray's  "  liand-book  tor 
France,"  p.  175. 
*  "  Proces  de  Jeanne  d'Arc,'  vol,  1.,  p.  238.  +  Id.  Ifc. 


JOAN  OF  ARC'S  VICTORY  AT  ORLEANS.  187 

Hall:*  "The  Englishmen,  perceiving  that  thai  -within  could  not 
long  continue  for  faute  of  vitaile  and  pouder,  kepte  not  their 
watche  so  diligently  ns  thei  were  accustomed,  nor  scoured  now 
the  countrey  environed  as  thei  before  had  ordained.  Whiche  neg- 
ligence the  citizens  shut  in  percer\'ing,  sent  worde  thereof  to  the 
Frencl^  captaines,  which,  with  Pucelle,  in  the  dedde  tyme  of  the 
nighte,  and  in  a  greate  rayne  and  thundere,  with  all  their  vitaile 
and  artillery,  entered  into  the  citie." 

When  it  was  d  ly,  the  Maid  rode  in  solemn  j^rocession  through 
the  city,  clad  in  complete  armor,  and  mounted  on  a  white  horse. 
Dunois  was  by  her  side,  and  all  the  bravest  knights  of  her  armj' 
and  of  the  garrison  followed  in  her  train.  The  whole  population 
thronged  around  her;  and  men,  women,  and  children  strove  to 
touch  her  garments,  or  her  banner,  or  her  charger.  They  poured 
forth  blessings  on  her,  whom  they  already  considered  their  deliv- 
erer. In  the  words  used  by  two  of  them  afterward  before  the 
tribunal  which  reversed  the  sentence,  but  could  not  restore  the 
life  of  the  Virgin-martyr  of  France,  "the  people  of  Orleans,  when 
they  first  saw  her  in  their  city,  thought  that  it  was  an  angel  from 
heaven  that  ha  I  come  down  to  save  them."  Joan  spoke  gently  in 
reply  to  their  acclamations  and  addresses.  She  told  them  to  fear 
God,  and  trust  in  him  for  safety  from  the  fury  of  their  enemies. 
She  first  went  to  the  principal  church,  where  Te  Dcum  was  chanted; 
and  then  she  took  up  her  abode  at  the  house  of  Jacques  Bourgier, 
one  of  the  principal  citizens,  and  whose  wife  was  a  matron  of  good 
repute.  She  refused  to  attend  a  splendid  banquet  which  had  been 
provided  for  her,  and  passed  nearly  all  her  time  in  prayer. 

When  it  was  known  by  the  English  that  the  Maid  was  in  Orleans, 
their  minds  were  not  less  occupied  about  her  than  were  the  minds 
of  those  in  the  city  ;  but  it  was  in  a  very  different  spirit.  The 
English  believed  in  her  supernatural  mission  as  firmly  as  the 
French  did,  but  they  thought  her  a  sorceress  who  had  come  to 
overthrow  them  by  her  enchantments.  An  old  prophecy,  which 
told  that  a  damsel  from  Lorraine  was  to  save  France,  had  long  been 
current,  and  it  was  known  and  applied  to  Joan  by  foreigners  as 
well  as  by  the  natives.  For  months  the  English  had  heard  of  the 
coming  Maid,  and  the  tales  of  miracles  which  she  was  said  to  have 
wrought  have  been  listened  to  by  the  rough  yeomen  of  the  English 
camp  with  anxious  curiosity  and  secret  awe.  She  had  sent  a  her- 
ald to  the  English  generals  before  she  marched  for  Orleans,  and 
he  had  summoned  the  English  generals  in  the  name  of  the  Most 
High  to  give  up  to  the  Maid,  who  was  sent  by  Heaven,  the  keys  of 
the  French  cities  which  they  had  wrongfully  taken  ;  and  he  also 
solemnly  adjured  the  English  troops,  whether  archers,  or  men  ot 
the  companies  of  war,  or  gentlemen,  or  others,  who  were  before 
the  city  of  Orleans,  to  depart  thence  to  their  homes,  under  peril 

•  Hall,  t.  12T. 


188  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

of  being  visited  by  the  jiidgment  of  God.  On  her  arrival  in  Or- 
leans, Joan  sent  another  similar  message  ;  but  the  English  scoffed 
at  her  from  their  towers,  and  threatened  to  bi;rn  her  heralds. 
She  determined,  before  she  shed  the  blood  of  the  besiegers,  to  re- 
peat the  warning  with  her  own  voice  ;  and  accordingly,  she 
moimted  one  of  the  boulevards  of  the  town,  which  was  within 
hearing  of  the  Tourelles,  and  thence  she  spoke  to  the  English, 
and  bade  them  depart  otherwise  they  Avould  meet  with  shame  and 
woe.  Sir  "William  Gladsdale  (whom  the  French  call  (Jlacidas) 
commanded  the  English  post  at  the  Tourelles,  and  he  and  another 
English  oificer  reijlied  by  bidding  her  go  home  and  keep  her  cows, 
and  by  ribald  jests,  that  brought  tears  of  shame  and  indignation 
into  her  eyes.  But,  though  the  English  leaders  vaunted  aloud, 
the  effect  produced  on  their  army  by  Joan's  presence  in  Orleans 
was  proved  four  days  after  her  arrival,  when,  on  the  approach  of 
re-enforceraents  and  stores  to  the  town,  Joan  and  La  Hire  marched 
out  to  meet  them, and  escorted  the  long  train  of  provision  wagons 
safely  into  Orleans,  between  the  bastilles  of  the  English,  who 
cowered  behind  their  walls  instead  of  charging  fiercely  and  fear- 
lessly, as  had  been  their  wont,  on  any  French  band  that  dared  to 
show  itself  within  reach. 

Thiis  far  she  had  prevailed  without  striking  a  blow ;  but  the 
time  was  now  come  to  test  her  courage  amid  the  horrors  of  actual 
slaughter.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  day  on  which  she  had  escorted 
the  re-enforcements  into  the  city,  while  she  was  resting  fatigued 
at  home,  Dunois  had  seized  an  advantageous  opportunity  of  at- 
tacking the  English  bastille  of  St.  Loup,  and  a  fierce  assault  of 
the  Orleannais  had  been  made  on  it,  which  the  English  garrison 
of  the  fort  stubbornly  resisted.  Joan  was  roused  by  a  sound  which 
she  believed  to  be  that  of  her  Heavenly  Voices  ;  she  called  for  her 
arms  and  horse,  and,  quickly  equipping  herself,  she  mounted  to 
ride  off  to  where  the  fight  was  raging.  In  her  haste  she  had  for- 
gotten her  banner  ;  she  rode  back,  and,  without  dismounting,  had 
it  given  to  her  from  the  window,  and  then  she  galloped  to  the  gate 
whence  the  sally  had  been  made.  On  her  way  she  met  some  of 
the  wounded  French  who  had  been  carried  back  from  the  fight. 
Ah  ! "  she  exclaimed,  "  I  never  can  see  French  blood  flow  without 
my  hair  standing  on  end."  (She  rode  out  of  the  gate,  and  met  the 
tide  of  her  countrymen,  who  had  been  rei^ulsed  from  the  English 
fort,  and  were  flying  back  to  Orleans  in  confusion.  At  the  sight 
of  the  Holy  Maid  and  her  banner  they  rallied,  and  renewed  the 
assault.  Joan  rode  forward  at  their  head,  waving  her  banner  and 
cheering  them  on.  The  English  quailed  at  what  they  believed  to 
be  the  charge  of  hell ;  Saint  Loup  was  stormed,  and  its  defenders 
put  to  the  sword,  except  some  few,  whom  Joan  succeeded  in  sav- 
ing. Al)  her  woman's  gentleness  returned  when  the  combat  was 
over.  It  was  the  first  time  that  she  had  ever  seen  a  battle-field. 
She  wept  at  the  sight  of  so  many  bleeding  corpses  ;  and  her  tears 


JOAN  OF  ARC'S  VICTORY  AT  ORLEANS.  18» 

flowed  doubly  -when  she  reflected  that  they  were  the  bodies  of 
Christian  men  who  had  died  without  confession. 

The  next  day  was  Ascension  day,  and  it  was  passed  by  Joan  in 
prayer.  But  on  the  following  morrow  it  was  resolved  by  the  chiefs 
of  the  garrison  to  attack  the  English  forts  on  the  south  of  the 
river.  For  this  purpose  they  crossed  the  river  in  boats,  and  after 
some  severe  fighting,  in  which  the  Maid  was  wounded  in  the  heel, 
both  the  English  bastilles  of  the  Augustins  and  St.  Jean  de  Blanc 
were  captured.  The  Tourelles  were  now  the  only  post  which  the 
besiegers  held  on  the  south  of  the  river.  But  that  post  was  for- 
midably strong,  and  by  its  command  of  the  bridge,  it  was  the  key 
to  the  deliverance  of  Orleans.  It  was  known  that  a  fresh  English 
army  was  approaching  under  Fastolfe  to  re-enforce  the  besiegers, 
and  should  that  army  arrive  while  the  Tourelles  were  yet  in  the 
possession  of  their  comrades,  there  was  great  peril  of  all  the  advan- 
tages which  the  French  had  gained  being  nullified,  and  of  the 
siege  being  again  actively  carried  on. 

It  was  resolved,  therefore,  by  the  French  to  assail  the  Tourelles 
at  once,  while  the  enthusiasm  which  the  presence  and  the  heroic 
valor  of  the  Maid  had  created  was  at  its  height.  But  the  enterprise 
■was  difficult.  The  rampart  of  the  tete-dii-pont,  or  landward  bul- 
wark, of  the  Tourelles  was  steep  and  high,  and  Sir  John  Gladsdale 
occupied  this  all-important  fort  with  five  hundred  archers  and 
men-at-arms,  who  were  the  very  flower  of  the  English  army. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  the  seventh  of  May,  some  thousands 
of  the  best  French  troops  in  Orleans  heard  mass  and  attended  the 
confessional  by  Joan's  orders,  and  then  crossing  the  river  in  boats, 
as  on  the  preceding  day,  they  assailed  the  bulwark  of  the  Tou- 
relles '  with  light  hearts  and  heavy  hands."  But  Gladsdale's 
men,  encouraged  by  their  bold  and  skilful  leader,  made  a  resolute 
and  able  defense.  The  Maid  planted  her  banner  on  the  edge  of  the 
fosse,  and  then  springing  down  into  the  ditch,  she  placed  the  first 
ladder  aflfainst  the  wall  and  began  to  mount.  An  English  archer 
sent  an  arrow  at  her,  which  pierced  her  corslet,  and  wounded  her 
severely  between  the  neck  and  shoulder.  She  fell  bleeding  from 
the  ladder  ;  and  the  English  were  leaping  down  from  the  wall  to 
capture  her,  but  her  followers  bore  her  ofi".  She  was  carried  to 
the  rear,  and  laid  upon  the  grass;  her  armor  was  taken  ofi",  and 
the  anguish  of  her  wound  and  the  sight  of  her  blood  made  her  at 
first  tremble  and  weep.  But  her  confidence  in  her  celestial  mission 
soon  returned :  her  patron  saints  seemed  to  stand  before  her,  and  re- 
assure her.  She  sat  lap  and  drew  the  arrow  out  with  her  own  hands. 
Some  of  the  soldiers  who  stood  by  wished  to  staunch  the  blood  by 
sayiiig  a  charm  over  the  wound  ;  but  she  forbade  them,  saying 
that  she  did  not  wish  to  be  cured  by  unhallowed  means.  She  had 
the  wound  dressed  with  a  little  oil,  and  then  bidding  her  confessor 
oome  to  her,  she  betook  herself  to  prayer. 
In  the  mean  while,  the  English  m  the  bulwark  of  the  Tourelles 


190  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

had  repulsed  the  oft-renewod  efforts  of  the  French  to  scale  the 
wall.  Dunois,  who  commanded  the  assailants,  was  at  last  dis- 
couraged, and  gave  orders  for  a  retreat  to  be  sounded.  Joan  sent 
for  him  and  the  other  generals,  and  implored  them  not  to  despair. 
"By  my  God,"  she  said  to  them,  "you  shall  soon  enter  in  there. 
Do  not  doubt  it.  When  you  see  my  banner  wave  again  up  to  the 
wall,  to  your  arms  again  !  for  ^the  fort  is  yours.  For  the  present, 
rest  a  little,  and  take  some  food  and  drink."  "  They  did  so,"  says 
the  old  chronicler  of  the  siege,  *  "  for  they  obeyed  her  marvelously." 
The  famtness  caused  by  her  wound  had  now  passed  off,  and  she 
headed  the  French  in  another  rush  against  the  bulwark.  The 
English,  who  had  thought  her  slain,  were  alarmed  at  her  reap- 
pearance, while  the  French  pressed  fui-iously  and  fanatically  for- 
ward. A  Biscayan  soldier  was  carrying  Joan's  banner.  She  had 
told  the  troops  that  directly  the  banner  touched  the  wall,  they 
should  enter.  The  Biscayan  waved  the  banner  forward  from  the 
edge  of  the  fosse,  and  toucheil  the  wall  with  it ;  and  then  all  the 
French  host  swarmed  madly  up  the  ladders  that  now  were  raised 
in  all  directions  against  the  English  fort.  At  this  crisis,  the  efforts 
of  the  English  garrison  were  distracted  by  an  attack  from  another 
quarter.  The  French  troops  who  had  been  left  in  Orleans  had 
placed  some  j^lanks  over  the  broken  arch  of  the  bridge,  and  advanced 
across  them  to  the  assault  of  the  Tourelles  on  the  northern  side. 
Gladsdale  resolved  to  withdraw  his  men  from  the  landward  bul- 
wark, and  concentrate  his  whole  force  in  the  Tourelles  themselves. 
He  was  passing  for  this  purpose  across  the  draw-bridge  that  con- 
nected the  Tourelles  and  the  tete-du-pont,  when  Joan,  who  by  this 
time  had  scaled  the  wall  of  the  bulwark,  called  out  to  him,  "Sur- 
render !  surrender  to  the  King  of  Hearen !  Ah,  Glacidas,  you 
have  foully  wronged  me  with  your  words,  but  I  have  great  pity  on 
your  soul,  and  the  souls  of  your  men."  The  Englishman,  disdain- 
ful of  her  summons,  was  striding  on  across  the  draw-bridge,  when 
a  cannon  shot  from  the  town  carried  it  away,  and  Gladsdale  per- 
ished in  the  water  that  ran  beneath.  After  his  fall,  the  remnant 
of  the  English  abandoned  all  farther  resistance.  Three  hundred 
of  them  had  been  killed  in  the  battle,  and  two  hundred  were  made 
prisoners. 

The  broken  arch  was  speedily  repaired  by  the  exulting  Orlean- 
nais,  and  Joan  made  her  triumphal  re-entry  into  the  city  by  the 
bridge  that  had  so  long  been  closed.  Every  church  in  Orleans 
rang  out  its  gratulating  peal  ;  and  throughout  the  night  the  sounds 
of  rejoicing  echoed,  and  bonfires  blazed  \ap  from  the  city.  But  in 
the  lines  and  forts  which  tha  besiegers  yet'  retained  on  the  north- 
ern shore,  there  was  anxious  watching  of  the  generals,  and  there 
was  desponding  gloom  among  the  soldiery.  Even  Talbot  now 
counseled  retreat.      On   the  following  morning  the  Orleannais, 

*  "  Journal  du  Siege  d'Orleana,"  p.  81. 


JOAN  OF  ARC'S  VICTORY  AT  ORLEANS.  191 

from  their  walls,  saw  the  great  forts  called  "London"  and  "St. 
Lawrence  "  in  flames,  and  witnessed  their  invaders  busy  in  destroy- 
ing the  stores  and  munitions  which  had  been  relied  on  for  the 
destruction  of  Orleans.  Slowly  and  sullenly  the  English  army 
retired  ;  and  not  before  it  had  drawn  up  in  battle  rfrray  opposite 
to  the  city,  as  if  to  challenge  the  garrison  to  an  encountei-.  The 
French  troops  we  eager  to  go  out  and  attack,  but  Joan  forbade  it. 
The  day  was  Sunday.  "  Li  the  nanie  of  God,"  she  said,  "letthem 
depart,  and  let  us  return  thanks  to  God."  She  led  the  soldiers 
and  citizens  forth  from  Orleans,  but  not  fo- the  shedding  of  blood. 
They  passed  in  solemn  procession  round  the  city  walls,  and  then, 
•while  their  retiring  enemies  were  yet  in  sight,  they  knelt  in 
thanksgiving  to  God  for  the  deliverance  which  he  had  vouchsafed 
them. 

"Within  three  months  from  the  time  of  her  first  interview  with 
the  dauphin,  Joan  had  fulfilled  the  first  part  of  her  promise,  the 
raising  of  the  siege  of  Orleans.  Within  three  months  more  she 
had  fulfilled  the  second  part  also,  and  had  stood  with  her  banner 
in  her  hand  by  the  high  altar  at  Kheims,  while  he  was  anointed 
and  crowned  as  King  Charles  YII.  of  France.  In  the  interval  she 
had  taken  Jargeau,  Troyes,  and  other  strong  places,  and  she  had 
defeated  an  English  army  in  a  fair  field  at  Patay.  The  enthusiasm 
of  her  countrymen  knew  no  bounds  ;  but  the  importance  of  her 
services,  and  especially  of  her  primary  achievement  at  Orleans, 
may  perhaps  be  best  proved  by  the  testimony  of  her  enemies.  There 
is  extant  a  fragment  of  a  letter  from  the  Kegent  Bedford  to  his  royal 
nephew,  Henry  VI.,  in  which  he  bewails  the  turn  that  the  war  has 
taken,  and  especially  attributes  it  to  the  raising  of  the  siege  of 
Orleans  by  Joan.  Bedford's  own  words,  which  are  preserved  in 
Kymer,  *  are  as  follows  : 

"And  alle  thing  there  prospered  for  you  til  the  tyme  of  the  Siege 
of  Orleans  taken  in  hand  God  knoweth  by  what  advis. 

"At  the  whiche  tyme,  after  the-  adventure  fallen  to  the  persone 
of  ^y  cousin  of  Salisbury,  whom  God  assoille,  there  felle  by  the 
hand  of  God  as  it  seemeth,  a  great  strook  upon  your  peuple  that 
was  assembled  there  in  grete  nombre,  caused  in  grete  partie,  as  y 
trowe,  of  laklie  of  sadde  beleve,  and  of  unlevelulle  doubte,  that 
thei  hadde  of  a  disciple  and  lyme  of  the  Feende,  called  the  Pucelle, 
that  Tised  fals  enchantments  and  sorcerie. 

"The  whiche  strookeand  discomfiture  nott  oonly  lessed  in  grete 
partie  the  nombre  of  your  peuple  there,  but  as  well  withdrewe  the 
courage  of  the  remenant  in  merveillous  wyse,  and  couraiged  your 
adverse  partie  and  ennemys  to  assemble  them  forthwith  in  grete 
nombre." 

When  Charles  had  been  anointed  King  of  France,  Joan  believed 
that  her  mission  was  accomplished.   And,  in  truth,  the  deliverance 

Vol.  X  ,  p.  4U8. 


193  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

of  Franco  from  the  English,  though  not  completed  for  many  years 
at'terwiird,  was  then  insured.  The  ceremony  of  a  royal  coronation 
and  anointment  was  not  in  those  days  regarded  as  a  mere  costly 
formality.  It  was  believed  to  confer  the  sanction  and  the  grace  of 
Heaven  upon  the  prince,  who  had  previously  ruled  with  mere 
human  authority.  Thenceforth  he  was  the  Lord's  Anointed. 
Moreover,  one  of  the  difficulties  that  had  previously  lain  in  the 
way  of  many  Frenchmen  when  called  on  to  support  Charles  VII.  was 
now  removed.  He  had  been  publicly  stigmatized,  even  by  his  own 
parents,  as  no  true  son  of  the  royal  race  of  France.  The  queen- 
mother,  the  English,  and  the  partisans  of  Burgundy  called  him  the 
"Pretender  to  the  title  of  Dauphin  ; ''  but  those  who  had  been  led 
to  doubt  his  legitimacy  were  cured  of  their  skepticism  by  the  vic- 
tories of  the  Holy  Maid  and  by  the  fulfillment  of  her  pledges.  They 
thought  that  Heaven  had  now  declared  itself  in  favor  of  Charles  as 
the  true  heir  of  the  crown  of  St.  Louis,  and  the  tales  about  his 
being  spurious  were  thenceforth  regarded  as  mere  English  cah;m- 
nies.  With  this  strong  tide  of  national  feeling  in  his  favor,  with 
victorious  generals  and  soldiers  round  him,  and  a  dispirited  and 
divided  enemy  before  him,  he  could  not  fail  to  conquer,  thoTigh 
hi,  own  imprudence  and  misconduct,  and  the  stubborn  valor 
which  the  English  still  from  time  to  time  displayed,  prolonged  the 
war  in  France  until  the  civil  war  of  the  Koses  broke  out  in  England, 
and  left  France  to  peace  and  repose. 

Joan  knelt  before  the  French  king  in  tlie  cathedral  of  Eheims, 
and  shed  tears  of  joy.  She  said  that  she  had  then  fulfilled  the 
work  which  the  Lord  had  commanded  her.  The  young  girl  now 
asked  for  her  dismissal.  She  wished  to  return  to  her  peasant 
home,  to  tend  her  parents'  flocks  again,  and  live  at  her  own  will  in 
her  native  village.*  She  had  always  believed  that  her  career  would 
be  a  short  one .  But  Charles  and  his  captains  were  loth  to  loose 
the  presence  of  one  who  had  such  influence  upon  the  soldiery  and 
the  people.  They  persuaded  her  to  stay  with  the  army.  She  still 
showed  the  same  bravery  and  zeal  for  the  cause  of  France.  She 
still  was  as  fervent  as  before  in  her  prayers,  and  as  exemplary  in  all 
religious  duties.  She  still  heard  her  Heavenly  Voices,  but  she 
now  no  longer  thought  herself  the  appointed  minister  of  Heaven 
to  lead  her  countrymen  to  certain  victory.  Our  admiration  for  her 
courage  and  patriotism  ought  to  be  increased  a  hundred  fold  by 
her  conduct  throughout  the  latter  part  of  her  career,  amid  dangers, 
against  which  she  no  longer  believed  herself  to  be  divinely  secured. 
Indeed,  she  believed  herself  doomed  to  perish  in  a  little  more  than 
a  year  ;t  but  she  still  fought  on  as  resolutely,  if  not  as  exultingly 


*  "  Je  voudrais  Wen  qu'il  voulut  me  faire  ramener  aupres  mes  pere  et 
mere,  a  garder  leurs  brebls  et  belall,  et  falre  ce  que  ]e  vouorois  falre." 

i  "  Dee  le  commencement  elle  avalt  dit,  '  II  me  taut  employer :  Je  ns 
dureral qu'un  an,  ou guere  plus ' "— Micheiet,  v., p,  101. 


JOAN  OF  ABO'S  VICTORY  AT  ORLEANS.  1S3 

As  in  the  case  of  Arminius,  tlie  interest  attached  to  individual 
heroism  and  virtue  makes  us  trace  the  fate  of  Joan  of  Arc  after 
she  had  saved  her  country.  She  served  well  with  Charles's  army 
in  the  capture  of  Lnou,  Hoissons,  Compiegne,  Beauvais,  and  other 
strong  places;  but  in  a  premature  attack  on  Paris,  in  September, 
1429,  the  French  were  repulsed,  and  Joan  was  severely  wounded. 
In  the  winter  she  was  again  in  the  field  with  some  of  the  French 
troops;  and  in  the  following  spring  she  threw  herself  into  the 
fortress  of  Comj^iegne,  which  she  had  herself  won  for  the  French 
king  in  the  preceding  autumn,  and  which  was  now  besieged  by  a 
strong  Burgundian  force. 

She  was  taken  prisoner  in  a  sally  from  Compiegne,  on  the  24.th 
of  May,  and  was  imprisoned  by  the  Burgundians  iirst  at  Arras, 
and  then  at  a  place  called  Crotoy,  on  the  Flemish  coast,  until 
Xovember,  when,  for  payment  of  a  large  sum  of  money,  she  was 
given  U13  to  the  English,  and  taken  to  Eouen,  which  then  was 
their  main  stronghold  in  France. 

"  Sorrow  It  were,  and  shame  to  tell, 
TUe  butchery  tnat  there  befell. ' 

And  the  revolting  details  of  the  cruelties  practiced  xipon  this 
young  girl  may  be  left  to  those  whose  dvitj',  as  avowed  biogra- 
phers, it  is  to  describe  them.*  She  was  tried  before  an  ecclesi- 
astical tribiinal  on  the  charge  of  witchcraft,  and  on  the  30th  of 
May,  1431,  she  was  burned  alive  in  the  market-place  at  Eouen. 

I  will  add  but  one  remark  on  the  character  of  the  truest  heroine 
that  the  world  has  ever  seen. 

If  any  person  can  be  found  in  the  present  age  who  would  join 
in  the  scoffs  of  Voltaire  against  the  Maid  of  Orleans  and  the 
Heavenly  Voices  by  which  she  believed  herself  insj^ired,  let  him 
read  the  life  of  the  wisest  and  best  man  that  the  heathen  nations 
produced.  Let  him  read  of  the  Heavenly  Voice  by  which  Socra- 
tes believed  himself  to  be  constantly  attended ;  which  cautioned 
him  on  his  way  from  the  field  of  battle  at  Deliuni,  and  which 
from  his  boyhood  to  the  time  of  his  death,  visited  him  with  un- 
earthly warnings. t  Let  the  modern  reader  reliect  upon  this; 
and  then,  unless  he  is  prepared  to  term  Socrates  either  fool  or 
imjDostor,  let  him  not  dare  to  deride  or  vilify  Joan  of  Arc. 

*  The  whole  of  the  "  Pro?es  de  Condemnation  et  de  Rehabilitation  de 
Jeamie  D'Arc"  has  been  published  In  five  volumes,  by  the  Societe  de  L  His- 
loiro  de  France.  All  the  passages  from  contemporary  chroniclers  and  poets 
are  added  ;  and  the  most  ample  materials  are  thus  given  lor  acquiring  full 
iiitormalion  on  a  subjict  uinch  i^,  to  an  Knglishraan,  one  of  painful  interest, 
'ihere  is  an  admUable  essay  ou  Joan  oi  Arc  in  the  la^th  number  of  the 
"Quarterly." 

t  .See  Cicero,  de  Divlnationo,  lib.  1.,  sec.  41 ;  and  see  the  words  of  Socrates 
himself,  In  Plato,  Apol.  Soc:    Ortjuui  ^eiov  vi  xal  dat/ioyioy  yiy- 
v(.vaX  Kfiol  de  rovr    edriv  kx  naidii  do^df^evov,  ^oovrj  ifi 
■yiyvonEVT],  K.  r.  A. 
D.B.— 7 


191  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 


Synopsis  of  Extents  between  Joan  of  Akc's  Yictoky  at  Oeleans,  a. 
D.  1429,  AND  ■liUi  Defeat  of  tue  Span;«h  Akmax)a,  a.d.  1588. 

A.D.  1452.  Final  expulsion  of  the  English  from  France. 

1453.  Constantinople  taken,  and  the  Iloman  empire  of  the  East 
destroyed  l)y  the  Tiirkish  Sultan  ilohammed  11. 

1455.  Commencement  of  the  civil  wars  in  England  between  the 
houses  of  York  and  Lancaster. 

1479.  Union  of  the  Christian  kingdoms  of  Spam  under  Ferdinand 
and  Isabella. 

1492.  Capture  of  Grenada  by  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  and  the  end 
of  the  Moorish  dominion  in  Spain. 

1492.  Columbus  discovers  the  New  World. 

1494.  Charles  VIII.  of  France  invades  Italy. 

1497.  Expedition  of  Vasco  di  Gama  to  the  East  Indies  round  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope. 

1503.  Naples  conquered  from  the  French  by  the  great  Spanish 
general,  Gonsalvo  of  Cordova. 

1508.  League  of  Cambray  by  the  pope,  the  emperor,  and  the 
King  of  France  against  Venice. 

1509.  Albuqiierque  establishes  the  empire  of  the  Portuguese  in 
the  East  Indies. 

1516.  Death  of  Ferdinand  of  Spain;  he  is  succeeded  by  his  grand- 
son Charles,  afterwards  the  Emjieror  Charles  V. 

1517.  Dispute  between  Luther  and  Tetzel  respecting  the  sale  of 
.indulgences,  which  leads  to  the  Reformation. 

1519.  Charles  V.  is  elected  Emperor  of  Germany. 

1520.  Cortez  conqiiers  Mexico. 

1525.  Francis  First  of  Spain  defeated  and  taken  prisoner  by  the 
imperial  army  at  Pavia. 

1520.  League  of  Smalcald  formed  by  the  Protestant  princes  of 
Germany. 

,     1533.  Henry  VIII.  renounces  the  papal  supremacy. 
'     1533.  Pizarro  conquers  Peru. 

1556.  Abdication  of  the  Emperor  Charles  V.,  Philip  II.  becomes 
King  of  Spain,  and  Ferdinand  I.  Emperor  of  Germany. 

1557.  Elizabeth  becomes  Queen  of  England. 

1557.  The  Spaniards  defeat  the  French  at  the  battle  of  St.  Quen- 
tin. 

1571.  Don  John  of  Austria,  at  the  head  of  the  Spanish  fleet,  aid- 
ed by  Venetian  and  the  papal  squadrons,  defeats  the  Turks  at  Le- 
l^anto. 

1572.  Massacre  of  the  Protestants  in  France  on  St. Bartholomew's 
day. 

1579.  The  Netherlands  revolt  against  Spain. 

1580.  Philip  II.  conquers  Portugal. 


DEFEAT  OF  THE  SFANISH  ARMADA.  195 

CHAPTEK  X. 

THE   DErEAT    OF    THE  SPANISH   AKMADA   A.D.    1588. 

vn  that  memorable  year,  ■sThen  the  dark  cloud  gathered  round  our  coasts, 
len  Europe  stood  by  in  tearful  suspense  to  behold  what  should  be  the 
1  "suit  of  that  great  cast  in  the  game  of  human  politics,  what  the  craft  of 
Rome,  the  power  of  I'hiHp,  the  geulusof  Fai-nese  could  achieve  against  the 
island-queen,  with  her  Drakes  and  cecils— in  that  agony  of  the  Protestant 
faith  and  English  name.— Hallam,  Comt.  Uist.  vol.  i.,  p.  220. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  19th  of  July,  a.d.  ir;83,  a  group  of  Eng- 
lish captains  was  collected  at  the  Bowling  Green  on  the  Hoe  at 
Plymouth,  whose  equals  have  never  before  or  since  been  brought 
together,  even  at  that  favorite  niustering place  of  the  heroes  of  the 
British  navy.  There  was  Sir  Francis  iJrake  the  first  English  cir- 
cumnavigator of  the  globe,  the  terror  of  everj'  Si^anish  coast,  in 
the  Old  World  and  the  New;  there  was  Sir  John  Hawkins,  the 
rough  veteran  of  many  a  daring  voj'age  on  the  African  and  Amer- 
ican seas,  and  of  many  a  desperate  battle  ;  there  was  Sir  Martin 
Probisher,  one  of  the  earliest  explorers  of  the  Artie  sens,  in  search 
of  Ihat  Northwest  Passage  which  is  ktill  the  darling  object  of  Eng- 
land's boldest  mariners.  There  was  the  high  Admiral  of  England, 
Lord  Howard  of  Effingham,  prodigal  of  all  things  in  his  country's 
cause,  and  who  had  recently  had  the  noble  daring  to  refuse  to  dis- 
mantle part  of  the  fleet,  though  the  c]ueen  had  sent  him  orders  to 
do  so,  in  consequence  of  an  exaggerated  report  that  the  enemy 
had  been  driven  back  and  shattered  by  a  storm.  Lord  Howard 
(whom  contemjjorary  writers  describe  as  being  of  a  wise  and 
noble  courage,  skilful  in  sea  matters,  waiy  and  provident,  and  of 
great  esteem  among  the  sailors)  resolved  to  risk  his  sovereign's 
anger,  and  to  keep  the  ships  afloat  at  his  own  charge,  rather  than 
that  England  should  run  the  i^eril  of  losing  their  protection. 

Another  of  our  Elizabethan  sea-kings,  Sir  Walter  Baleigh,  was 
at  that  time  commissioned  to  raise  and  equip  the  land  forces  of 
Cornwall;  but  we  may  well  believe  that  he  must  have  availed  him- 
self of  the  oppoi-tunity  of  consulting  with  the  lord  admiral  and 
the  other  high  officers,  which  was  offered  by  the  English  fleet  pttt- 
ting  into  Plymouth  ;  and  we  may  look  on  P^aleigh  as  one  of  the 
group  that  was  assembled  at  the  Bowling  Green  on  the  Hoe. 
Slany  other  brave  men  and  skilful  mariners,  besides  the  chiefs 
whose  names  have  been  mentioned,  were  there,  enjoying  with  true 
sailor-like  merriment,  their  temporary  relaxation  from  duty.  Li 
the  harbor  lay  the  English  fleet  with  which  they  had  just  re- 
turned from  a  cruise  to  Corunna  in  search  of  information  respect- 
ing the  real  condition  and  movements  of  the  hostile  Armada. 
Lord  Howard  liad  ascertained  that  our  enemies,  though  tempest- 
tossed,  were  still  formidably  strong;  and  fearing  that  part  of  their 


196  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

fleet  might  make  for  England  in  his  absence,  he  had  hurried  back 
to  the  Devonshire  coast.  He  resumed  his  station  at  Plymouth, 
and  waited  there  for  certain  tidings  of  the  Spaniard's  approach. 

A  match  at  bowls  was  being  played,  in  which  Drake  antl  other 
high  officers  of  the  fleet  were  engaged,  when  a  small  armed  ves- 
sel was  seen  running  before  the  wind  into  Plymoiith  harbor  with 
all  sails  set.  Her  commander  landed  in  haste  and  eagerly  sought 
the  i^lace  where  the  English  lord  admii'als  and  his  captains  were 
standing.  His  name  was  Fleming;  he  was  the  master  of  a  Scotch 
privateer;  and  he  told  the  English  officers  that  he  had  that  morn- 
ing seen  the  Spanish  Armada  off  the  Cornish  coast.  At  this 
exciting  information  the  captains  began  to  hurry  down  to  the 
water,  and  there  was  a  shoiiting  for  the  ships'  boats  ;  but  Drake 
cooly  checked  his  comrades,  and  insisted  the  match  should  be 
played  out.  He  said  that  there  was  plenty  of  time  both  to  win  the 
game  and  beat  the  Spaniards.  The  best  and  bravest  match  that 
evj3r  was  scored  was  resumed  accordingly.  Drake  and  his  friends 
aimed  their  last  bowls  with  the  same  steady,  calculating  coolness 
with  which  they  were  about  to  point  their  guns.  The  winning 
cast  was  made  ;  and  then  they  went  on  board  and  prepared  for 
action  with  their  hearts  as  light  and  their  nerves  as  firm  as  they 
had  been  on  the  Hoe  Bowling  Green. 

Meanwhile  the  messengers  and  signals  had  been  dispatched  fast 
and  far  through  England,  to  warn  each  town  and  village  that  the 
enemy  had  come  at  last.  In  every  sea-port  there  was  instant  mak- 
ing ready  by  land  and  by  sea  ;  in  every  shire  and  every  city  there 
was  instant  mustering  of  horse  and  man.  *  But  England's  best 
defense  then,  as  ever,  wasinher  fleet;  and  after  warping  laboriously 
out  of  Plymouth  harbor  against  the  wind,  the  lord  admiral  stood 
westward  under  easy  sail,  keeping  an  anxious  look-out  for  the 
Armada,  the  approach  of  which  was  soon  announced  by  Cornish 
fish-boats  and  signals  from  the  Cornish  cliffs. 

The  England  of  our  own  days  is  so  strong,  and  the  Spain  of  our 
own  days  is  so  feeble, that  it  is  not  easy,  without  some  reflection  and 
care,  to  comprehend  the  full  extent  of  the  peril  which  England 
then  ran  from  the  power  and  the  ambition  of  Spain,  or  to  appre- 
ciate the  importance  of  that  crisis  in  the  history  of  the  world. 
We  had  then  no  Indian  or  colonial  empire,  save  the  feeble  germs 
of  our  North  American  settlements,  which  Kaleigh  and  Gilbert 
had  recently  jilanted.  Scotland  was  a  separate  kingdom  ;  and 
Ireland  was  then  even  a  greater  source  of  weakness  and  a  worse 
nest    of  rebellion  than   she  has  been    in    after    times.       Queen 

*  In  Macaulay's  Ballad  on  the  Spanish  Armada,  the  transmission  of  the 
tidings  of  the  Armada's  approach,  and  the  arming  of  the  English  nation, 
are  magnlflcentlv  described.  'J  he  progress  of  the  lire-signals  is  depicted  in 
lines  which  are  worthy  of  comparison  with  the  reuowiicd  passage  in  the 
Agamemnon,  which  describes  the  transmission  of  the  beacon-light  an- 
nouncing the  fall  of  Troy  from  Mount  Ida  to  Argos. 


DEFEAT  OF  TEE  SPAXISE  ARMADA.  197 

Elizabeth  liad  found  at  her  accession  an  encumbered  reveniie,  a 
divided  people,  and  an  unsuccessful  foreign  war,  in  which  the  last 
remnant  of  our  possessions  in  France  had  been  lost;  she  had  also 
a  formidable  pretender  to  her  crown,  whose  interests  were  favored 
by  all  the  Roman  Catholic  powers  ;  and  even  some  of  her  subjects 
were  warped  by  religious  bigotry  to  deny  her  title,  and  to  look  on 
her  as  a  heretical  usurj^er.  It  is  true  that  during  the  years  of  her 
reign  which  had  passed  away  before  the  attempted  invasion  of  1588, 
she  had  revived  the  commercial  prosperity,  the  national  spirit,  and 
the  national  loyalty  of  England.  But  her  resources  to  cope  with 
the  colossal  power  of  Philip  II.  still  seemed  most  scanty  ;  and  she 
had  not  a  single  foreign  ally,  except  the  Dutch,  who  were  themselves 
struggling  hard,  and,  as  it  seemed,  hopelessly,  to  maintain  their 
revolt  against  Spain. 

On  the  other  hand,  Philip  II.  was  absolute  master  of  an  empire 
so  superior  to  the  other  states  of  the  world  in  extent,  in  resources, 
and  especially  in  military  and  naval  forces  as  to  make  the  project 
of  enlarging  that  empire  into  a  universal  monarchy  seem  a  per- 
fectly feasible  scheme  ;  and  Philip  had  both  the  ambition  to  form 
that  project,  and  the  resolution  to  devote  all  his  energies  and  all 
his  means  to  its  realization.  Since  the  downfall  of  the  Roman 
empire  no  siach  i^reponderating  power  had  existed  in  the  world. 
During  the  mediiBval  centuries  the  chief  European  kingdoms  were 
slowly  moulding  themselves  out  of  the  feudal  chaos ;  and  though 
the  wars  with  each  other  were  numerous  and  desperate,  and  several 
of  their  respective  kings  figured  for  a  time  as  mighty  conquerors, 
none  of  them  in  those  times  acquired  the  consistency  and  perfect 
organization  which  are  requisite  for  a  long-sustained  career  of 
aggrandizement.  After  the  consolidation  of  the  great  kingdoms, 
they  for  some  time  kejit  each  other  in  mutual  check.  Diiring  the 
first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century,  the  balancing  system  was  sue  • 
cessfully  practiced  by  Eiiropean  statesmen.  But  when  Philip  II , 
reigned,  France  had  become  so  miserably  weak  through  her  civil 
wars,  that  he  had  nothing  to  dread  from  the  rival  state  which  had 
so  long  curbed  his  father,  the  Emperor  Charles  V.  In  Germany, 
Italy,  and  Poland  he  had  either  zealous  friends  and  dependents, 
or  weak  and  divided  enemies.  Against  the  Turks  he  had  gained 
grf  at  and  glorious  successes  ;  and  he  might  look  round  the  conti- 
nent of  Europe  ^vithout  disceriyng  a  single  antagonist  of  whom  he 
could  stand  in  awe.  Spain,  when  he  acceded  to  tbs  throne,  was 
at  the  zenith  of  her  ])0wer.  The  hardihood  and  spirit  which  the 
Aragonese,  the  Castilians,  and  the  other  nations  of  the  peninsula 
had  acquired  during  centuries  of  free  institutions  and  successful 
war  against  the  Moors,  had  not  yet  become  obliterated.  Charles 
V.  had,  indeed,  destroyed  the  liberties  of  Spain  ;  but  tbat  had 
been  done  too  recently  for  its  full  evil  to  be  felt  in  Philip's  time. 
A  people  cannot  be  debased  in  a  single  generation  ;  and  the 
Spaniards  under  Charles  V.  and  Philip  II.  proved  the  truth  of  the 


1 98  BECISWE  BA  TTLES. 

remark,  that  nc  nation  is  ever  so  formidable  to  its  neighbors  for  a 
time,  as  a  nation  which,  after  being  trained  np  in  self-government, 
passes  suddenly  under  a  despotic  ruler.  The  energy  of  domo- 
?ratic  institutions  survives  for  a  few  gererations,  and  to  it  are 
fuperadded  the  decision  and  certainty  which  are  the  attributes  of 
pvernment  when  all  its  powers  are  directed  by  a  single  mind.  It 
S  true  that  this  preternatural  vigor  is  short-lived  :  national  corrup- 
';ion  and  debasement  gradually  follow  the  loss  of  the  national 
liberties  ;  but  there  is  an  interval  before  their  workings  are  felt, 
and  in  that  interval  the  most  ambitious  schemes  of  foreign  con- 
quest are  often  siiccessfully  undertaken. 

Philip  had  also  the  advantage  of  finding  himself  at  the  head  of  a 
large  standing  army  in  a  jierfect  state  of  discipline  and  equipment, 
in  an  age  when,  except  some  feAv  insignificant  corps,  standing 
armies  were  unknown  in  Christendom.  The  renown  of  the  Spanish 
troops  was  justly  high,  and  the  infantry  in  particular  was  consid- 
ered the  best  in  the  world.  His  fleet,  also,  was  far  more  numerous, 
and  better  appointed  than  that  of  any  other  European  power  ;  and 
both  his  soldiers  and  his  sailors  had  the  confidence  in  themselves 
and  their  commanders  which  a  long  career  of  successful  warfare 
alone  can  create . 

Besides  the  .Spanish  crown,  Philip  succeeded  to  the  kingdom  of 
Naples  and  Sicily,  the  duchy  of  Milan,  Franche-Compte,  and  the 
Netherlands.  In  Africa  he  possessed  Tunis,  Oran,  the  Cajse  Verde, 
and  the  Canary  Islands  ;  and  in  Asia,  the  Philippine  and  Sunda 
Islands,  and  a  part  of  the  Moluccas.  Beyond  the  Atlantic  he  was 
lord  of  the  most  splendid  portions  of  the  New  World,  which 
Columbus  found  "for  Castile  and  Leon."  The  empires  of  Peru 
and  Mexico,  New  Spain,  and  Chili,  with  their  abundant  mines  of 
the  precious  metals,  Hispaniola  and  Cuba,  and  many  other  of  tho 
American  islands,  were  provinces  of  the  sovereign  of  Spain. 

Philip  had,  indeed,  experienced  the  mortification  of  seeing  the 
inhabitants  of  the  Netherlands  revolt  against  his  authority,  nor 
could  he  succeed  in  bringing  back  beneath  the  Spanish  scepiter 
all  the  possessions  which  his  father  had  bequeathed  to  him.  i!ut 
he  had  reconqiiered  a  large  number  of  the  towns  and  districts 
that  originally  took  up  arms  against  him.  Belgium  was  brought 
more  thoroughly  into  implicit  obedience  to  Spain  than  she  had 
been  before  her  insurrection,  and  it  was  only  Holland  and  the  six 
other  northern  states  that  still  held  out  against  his  arms.  The 
contest  had  also  formed  a  compact  and  veteran  army  on  Philip's 
side,  which,  under  his  great  general,  the  Prince  of  Parma,  had 
been  trained  to  act  together  under  all  difficulties  and  all  vicissi- 
tudes of  warfare,  and  on  whose  steadiness  and  loyalty  perfect  re- 
liance might  be  placed  throughout  any  enterprise,  however  diffi- 
cult and  tedious,  Alexander  Farnese,  prince  of  Parma,  captain 
general  of  the  Spanish  armies,  and  governor  of  the  Spanish  posses- 
sions in  the  Netherlands,  wa3  beyond  all  comparison  the  greatest 


DEFEAT  OF  TEE  SPAXISII  ABMADA.  199 

military  genius  of  his  age.  He  was  also  liiglily  distingiiislied  for 
political  wisdom  and  sagacity,  and  for  his  great  administrative 
talents.  He  was  idolized  by  his  troops,  whose  affections  he  knew 
how  to  win  withoi^t  relaxing  their  discipline  or  diminishing  his 
own  authority.  Pre-eminently  cool  and  circumspect  in  his  plans, 
hut  swift  and  energetic  when  the  moment  arrived  for  striking  a 
decisive  blow,  neglecting  no  risk  that  caution  could  provide 
against,  conciliating  even  the  jDopulations  of  the  districts  which  he 
attacked  by  his  scrupulous  good  faith,  his  moderation,  and  his 
address,  Farnese  was  one  the  most  formidable  generals  that  ever 
could  be  i)laced  at  the  head  of  an  army  designed  not  only  to 
win  battles,  but  to  eiieet  conquests.  Happy  it  is  for  England  and 
the  world  that  this  island  was  saved  from  becoming  an  arena  for 
the  exhibition  of  his  powers. 

Whatever  diminution  the  Spanish  empire  might  have  sustained 
in  the  Netherlands  seemed  to  be  more  than  compensated  by  the 
acquisition  of  Portugal,  which  Philip  had  completely  conquer- 
ed in  1580.  Not  only  that  ancient  kingdom  itself,  but  all  the 
fruits  of  the  maritime  enterprises  of  the  Portuguese,  had  fallen 
into  Philip's  hands.  All  the  Portuguese  colonies  in  America, 
Africa,  and  the  East  Indies  acknowledged  the  sovereignty  of  the 
King  of  Spain,  who  thus  not  only  united  the  whole  Iberian  penin- 
sula" under  his  single  scepter,  but  had  acquired  a  transmarine 
empire  little  inferior  in  wealth  and  extent  to  that  which  ho  had 
inherited  at  his  accession.  The  splendid  victory  which  his  fleet, 
in  conjunction  with  the  papal  and  Venetian  galleys,  had  gained 
at  Lepanto  over  the  Turks,  had  deservedly  exalted  the  fame  of  the 
Spanish  marine  throughout  Christendom;  and  when  Philip  had 
reigned  thirty-five  yeai-s,  the  vigor  of  his  empire  seemed  unbroken, 
and  the  glory  of  the  Spanish  arms  had  increased,  and  was  increas- 
ing throughout  the  world. 

One  nation  only  had  been  bis  active,  his  persevering,  and  his 
successful  foe.  England  had  encouraged  his  revolted  subjects  in 
Flanders  against  him,  and  given  them  the  aid  in  men  and  money, 
without  which  they  must  soon  have  been  humbled  in  the  dust. 
English  ships  had  plundered  his  colonies;  had  defied  his  suprem- 
acy°in  the  New  World  as  well  as  the  Old;  they  had  inflicted 
ignominious  defeats  on  his  squadrons;  they  had  captured  his 
cities,  and  burned  his  arsenals  on  the  very  coast  of  SiJain.  The 
English  had  mo.de  Philip  himself  the  object  of  personalinsult. 
He  was  held  up  to  ridicule  in  their  stage-plays  and  masks,  and 
these  scoffs  at  the  man  had  (as  is  not  unusual  in  such  cases)  excited 
the  anger  of  the  absolute  king  even  more  vehemently  than  the  m 
juries  inflicted  on  his  power.*  Personal  as  well  as  politica- 
revenge  urged  him  to  attack  England.  Were  she  once  subduedl 
the  Dutch  must  submit  ;  France  could  not  cope  with  him,  the  em, 

*  See  Kanke's  "  Hist.  Popes,"  vol.  U.,  p.  ITO. 


200  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

piro  would  not  oppose  him  ;  and  universal  dominion  seemed  sure 
to  be  the  result  of  the  conquest  of  that  malignant  island. 

There  was  yet  another  and  a  stronger  feeling  which  armed  King 
Philip  against  England.  He  was  one  of  the  sincerest  and  one  of 
the  sternest  bigots  of  his  age.  He  looked  on  himself,  and  was 
Ijoked  on  by  others,  as  the  appointed  chami^ion  to  extirpate  heresy 
and  re-establish  the  papal  power  throughout  Europe.  A  power- 
ful reaction  against  rrotestantisni  had  taken  place  since  the 
commencement  of  the  second  half  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and 
he  looked  on  himself  as  destined  to  comjdete  it.  The  Eeformed 
doctrines  had  been  thoroughly  rooted  out  from  Italy  and  Sjjain. 
Belgium,  which  had  previously  been  half  Protestant,  had  been 
reconquered  both  in  allegiance  and  creed  by  Philip,  and  had  Ijo- 
come  one  of  the  most  Catholic  countries  in  the  world.  Half 
Germany  had  been  won  back  to  the  old  faith.  In  Bavoy,  in 
Switzerland,  and  many  other  countries,  the  progress  of  the  coun- 
ter-Eeformation  had  been  rapid  and  decisive.  The  Catholic 
league  seemed  victorious  in  France.  The  jDapal  court  itself  had 
shaken  ofl"  the  supineness  of  recent  centuries,  and,  at  the  head 
of  the  Jesuits  and  the  other  new  ecclesiastical  orders,  was  dis- 
playing a  vigor  and  a  boldness  worthy  of  the  days  of  Hildebrand, 
or  Innocent  III. 

Throughout  continental  Europe,  the  Protestants,  discomfitted 
and  dismaj'ed,  looked  to  England  as  their  protector  and  refuge. 
England  was  the  acknowledged  central  point  of  Protestant  power 
and  policy  ;  and  to  conquer  England  was  to  stab  Protestantism  to 
the  very  heart.  Sixtus  V.,  the  then  reigning  pope,  earnestly  ex- 
horted Philip  to  this  enterprise.  And  when  the  tidings  reached 
Italy  and  Spain  that  the  Protestant  Queen  of  England  had  put  to 
death  her  Catholic  prisoner,  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  the  fury  of  the 
Vatican  and  Escurial  know  no  bounds.  Elizabeth  was  denounced 
as  the  murderous  heretic  whose  destruction  was  an  instant  duty.  A 
formal  treaty  was  concluded(in  June  1587),  by  which  the  pope 
bound  himself  to  contribute  a  million  of  scudi  to  the  expenses  of  the 
war;  the  money  to  be  paid  as  soon  as  the  king  had  actual  possession 
of  an  English  port.  Philip,  on  his  part,  strained  the  resources  of 
his  vast  empire  to  the  utmost.  The  French  Catholic  chiefs  eagerly 
co-operated  with  him.  In  the  sea-ports  of  (he  Mediterranean,  and 
along  almost  the  whole  coast  from  Gibraltar  to  Jutland,  the  pre- 
parations for  the  great  armam(  nt  were  urged  forward  with  all  the 
earnestness  of  religious  zeal  as  well  as  of  angry  ambition.  "Thus," 
says  the  German  historian  of  the  pojies,-  "thus  did  the  united 
powers  of  Italy  and  Spain,  from  which  such  mighty  inlliiences  had 
gone  forth  over  the  whole  world,  now  rouse  themselves  for  an  at- 
tack upon  England  !  The  king  had  already  compiled,  from  the 
archives  of  Simancas,  a  statement  of  the  claims  which  he  had  to 

*  Eanke,  vol.  il.,  p.  1T2. 


DEFEAT  OF  THE  SPANISH  AIi3IADA.  201 

the  tlirone  of  that  country  on  the  extinction  of  the  Stnart  line  ; 
the  most  brilliant  j^rospects,  especially  that  of  a  universal  domin- 
ion of  the  seas,  -were  associated  in  his  mind  with  this  enterpi-isc. 
Every  thing  seemed  to  conspire  to  such  an  end  ;  the  predominancy 
of  Catholicism  in  Germany,  the  renewed  attack  upon  the  Hugue- 
nots in  France,  the  attempt  ujion  Geneva,  and  the  enterprise 
against  England.  At  the  same  moment,  a  thoroughly  Catholic 
prince,  Sigismund  III.,  ascended  the  throne  of  Poland,  with  the 
prospect  also  of  future  succession  to  the  throne  of  Sweden.  But 
whenever  any  principle  or  power,  be  it  what  it  maj%  aims  at  un- 
limited supremacy  in  Europe,  some  vigorous  resistance  to  it,  hav- 
ing its  origin  in  the  deepest  springs  of  human  nature,  invariably 
arises.  Philip  II.  had  to  encounter  newly,  awakened  powers, 
braced  by  the  vigor  of  youth,  ancl  elevated  by  a  sense  of  their 
future  destiny.  The  intrepid  corsairs,  who  had  rendered  every 
sea  insecure,  now  clustered  round  the  coasts  of  their  native  island. 
The  Protestants  in  a  body — even  the  Puritans,  although  they  had 
been  subjected  to  as  severe  oppressions  as  the  Catholics — rallied 
round  their  c^ueen,  who  now  gave  admirable  jiroof  of  her  mascu- 
line courage,  and  her  j^rincely  talent  of  winning  the  affections,  and 
leading  the  minds,  and  presei'ving  the  allegiance  of  men." 

Eanke  should  have  added  that  the  English  Catholics  at  this 
crisis  proved  themselves  as  loyal  to  their  queen  and  tvne  to  their 
coi;ntry  as  were  the  most  vehement  anti-Catholic  zealots  in  the 
island.  Some  few  traitors  there  were  ;  but  as  a  body,  the  English- 
men v.hoheld  the  ancient  faith  stood  the  trial  of  their  patriotism 
nobly.  The  lord  admiral  himself  was  a  Catholic,  and  (to  adopt 
the  words  of  Hallam)  "then  it  was  that  the  Catholicsin  every 
county  repaired  to  the  standard  of  the  lord  lieutenant,  imploring 
that  they  might  not  be  suspected  of  bartering  the  national  inde- 
l^endence  for  their  religion  itself."  The  Spaniard  found  no 
partisans  in  the  country  which  he  assailed,  nor  did  England,  self- 
wounded, 

"Lie  at  the  proud  foot  of  her  enemy." 

For  upward  of  a  year  the  S^ianish  preparations  had  been  active- 
ly and  unremittingly  urged  forward.  Negotiations  were,  during 
this  time,  carried  on  at  Ostend,  in  which  various  pretexts  were  as- 
signed by  the  Spanish  commissioners  for  the  gathering  togetherof 
such  huge  masses  of  shipping,  and  such  equipments  of  troops  in 
all  the  sea-ports  which  their  master  ruled;  but  Philip  himself  took 
little  care  to  disguise  his  intentions;  nor  could  Elizabeth  and  her 
able  ministers  doubt  but  that  this  island  was  the  real  object  of  the 
Spanish  armament.  The  peril  that  was  wisely  foreseen  was  reso- 
lutely provided  for.  Circular  letters  from  the  queen  were  sent 
round  to  the  lord  lieutenants  of  the  several  counties,  requiring 
them  "to  call  together  the  best  sort  of  gentlemen  under  their  leu- 
tenancy,  and  to  declare  unto  them  these  great  preparations  and 


202  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

arrogant  tlireatenings,  now  burst  forth  in  aetion  npon  the  seas, 
wherein  every  man's  partiei;hxr  state,  in  the  highest  degree,  coukl 
be  touched  in  respect  of  country,  liberty,  wives,  children,  lands, 
lives,  and  (which  was  specially  to  be  regarded)  the  profession  of 
the  true  and  sincere  religion  of  Christ.  And  to  lay  before  them  the 
infinite  and  unspeakable  miseries  that  would  fall  out  upon  any 
such  change,  which  miseries  were  evidently  seen  by  the  fruits  of 
that  hai'd  and  cruel  government  holden  in  countries  not  far  dis- 
tant. We  do  look,"  said  the  queen,  "that  the  most  part  of  them 
should  have,  upon  this  instant  extraordinary  occasion,  a  largerpro- 
portion  of  furniture,  both  for  horsemen  and  footmen,  but  especially 
horsemen,  than  hath  been  certified,  thereby  to  be  in  their  best 
strength  against  any  attempt,  or  to  be  employed  about  our  own  per- 
son, or  otherwise.  Hereunto  as  we  doubt  not  but  by  yoiir  good 
endeavors  thej'^  will  be  the  rather  conformable  so  also  we  assure 
ourselves  that  Almig-ity  God  will  so  bless  these  their  loyal  hearts 
born  towards  us,  their  loving  sovereign,  and  their  natural  countrj^ 
that  all  the  attempts  of  any  enemy  whatsoever  shall  be  made  void 
and  frustrate,  to  their  confusion,  vour  comfort,  and  to  God's  high 
glory.  * 

Letters  of  a  similar  kind  were  also  sent  by  the  council  to  each  of 
the  nobility,  and  to  the  great  cities.  The  primate  called  on  the 
clergy  for  their  contributions;  and  by  every  class  of  the  community 
the  appeal  was  responded  to  with  liberal  zeal,  that  offered  more  even 
than  the  queen  required.  The  boasting  threats  of  the  S]:»aniards 
had  roused  the  spirit  of  the  nation,  and  the  whole  people  "were 
thoroughly  irritated  to  stir  up  the  whole  forces  for  their  defense 
against  such  prognosticated  conquests;  so  that  in  a  very  short 
time,  all  her  whole  realm,  and  every  corner,  were  furnished  with 
armed  men,  on  horseback  and  on  foot;  and  those  continually 
trained,  exercised,  and  put  into  bands,  in  warlike  manner,  as  in  no 
age  ever  was  before  in  this  realm.  There  was  no  sparing  of  money 
to  provide  horse,  armor,  weapons,  powder,  and  all  necessaries;  no, 
nor  want  of  provision  of  pioneers,  carriages,  and  victuals,  in  every 
county  of  the  realm,  without  exception,  to  attend  upon  the  armies. 
And  to  this  general  furniture  every  man  voluntarily  offered,  very 
many  their  services  personally  without  wages,  others  money  for 
armor  and  weapons,  and  towage  soldiers;  a  matter  strange,  and 
never  the  like  heard  of  ia  this  realm  or  elsewhere.  And  this  general 
reason  moved  all  men  to  large  contributions,  that  when  a  conquest 
was  to  be  withstood  wherein  all  should  be  lost,  it  was  no  time  to 
sjDare  a  portion. "f 

Our  lion-hearted  queen  showed  herself  worthy  of  such  a  people. 
A  camp  was  formed  at  Tilbury;    and  there  Elizabeth  rode  through 

*  Strype,  cited  In  Southeys  "  Naval  History.'' 

t  Copy  of  contemporary  letter  In  tUe  Harlelan  Collection,  quoted  by 
Southey. 


DEFEAT  OF  THE  SPANISH  ABMADA.  203 

tlie  ranks,  encouraging  her  captains  and  lier  soldiers  by  her  pres- 
ence and  her  words.  One  of  the  speeches  which  she  addressed  to 
them  during  this  crisis  has  been  preserved;  and  though  olten 
quoted,  it  must  not  be  omitted  here. 

"My  loving  people,"  she  said,  "we  have  been  persuaded  by 
some  that  are  careful  of  our  safety  to  take  heed  how  we  commit  our- 
selves to  armed  multitudes,  for  fear  of  treachery;  but  I  assure  you 
I  do  not  desire  to  live  to  distrust  my  faithful  and  loving  people. 
Let  tyrants  fear  !  I  have  always  so  behaved  myself,  that  under  God, 
I  have  placed  my  chiefest  strength  and  safeguard  in  the  loyal  hearts 
and  good  will  of  my  suVijects;  and,  thei-efore,  I  am  come  among 
you,  as  you  see,  at  tiiis  time,  not  for  my  recreation  and  disport,  but 
being  resolved,  in  the  midst  and  heat  of  the  battle,  to  live  or  die 
among  you  all,  to  lay  down  for  my  God,  for  my  kingdom,  and  for 
my  people,  my  honor  and  my  blood  even  in  tiie  dust.  I  know  I 
have  the  body  but  of  a  weak  and  feeble  woman,  but  I  have  the  heart 
and  stomach  of  a  king,  and  of  a  King  of  England  too,  and  think  it 
foul  scorn  that  Parma,  or  Spain,  or  any  prince  of  Eurojae  shoiild 
dare  to  invade  the  borders  of  my  realm,  to  which  rather  than  any 
dishonor  shall  grow  by  me,  I  myself  will  take  i;p  arms,  I  myself  will 
be  your  general,  judge,  and  rcM'arder  of  every  one  of  your  virtues  in 
the  field.  I  know  already ,  for  your  forwardness,  you  have  deserved 
rewards  and  crowns ;  and  we  do  assure  you,  on  the  word  of  a  )  :rince 
they  shall  be  duly  paid  you.  In  the  mean  time,  my  lieutenant  gen- 
eral shall  be  in  my  stead,  than  whom  never  prince  commanded  a 
more  noble  or  worthy  subject,  not  doubting  biit  by  your  obedi- 
ence to  my  general,  by  your  concord  in  the  camp,  and  yoiir  valor 
in  the  field,  we  shall  shortly  have  a  famous  victory  over  those 
enemies  of  my  God,  of  my  kingdom  and  of  my  people." 

Some  of  Elizabeth's  advisers  recommended  that  the  whole  care 
and  resources  of  the  government  should  be  devoted  to  the  eqiiip- 
ment  of  the  armies,  and  that  the  enemy,  when  he  attempted  to 
land,  should  be  welcomed  with  a  battle  on  the  shore.  JBut  the 
wiser  counsels  of  Ealeigh  and  others  prevailed,  who  urged  the  im- 
portance of  fitting  out  a  fleet  that  should  encounter  the  Spaniards 
at  sea,  and,  if  possible,  prevent  them  from  approaching  the  land  at 
all.  In  lialeigh's  great  work  on  the  "  History  of  the  World,"  he 
takes  occasion,  when  discussing  some  of  the  events  of  the  first 
Punic  war,  to  give  his  reasonings  on  the  proper  policy  of  England 
when  menaced  with  invasion.  Without  doubt,  we  have  there  the 
substance  of  the  advice  which  he  gave  to  Elizabeth's  council ;  and 
the  remarks  of  such  a  man  on  such  a  subject  have  a  general  and 
enduring  interest,  beyond  the  immediate  crisis  which  called  them 
forth.  Pialeigh  says  :'*  "  Surely  I  hold  that  the  best  way  is  to  keep 
our  enemies  from  treading  upon  our  ground  ;  wherein  if  we  fail, 
then  must  we  seek  to  make  him  ^\  ish  that  he  had  stayed  at  his  own 

*  "  Historic  of  the  World,"  p.  199-801. 


201  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

home.  In  sncli  a  case,  if  it  should  happen,  or.r  judgments  are  to 
■weigh  many  particuku-  circumstances,  tiuit  Lelongs  not  unto  this 
discourse.  But  making  the  question  general,  the  positive,  Whetlicr 
England,  without  U:e  help  (f  ]ier  fleet,  he  ah!e  to  deljar  an  enemy  from 
landing,  I  hold  that  it  is  unable  so  to  do,  and  therefore  I  think  it 
most  dangerous  to  make  the  adventure;  for  the  encouragement  of 
a  first  victory  to  an  enemy,  and  the  discouragement  of  being 
beaten  to  the  invaded,  may  draw  after  it  a  most  perilous  conse- 
quence. 

"  Great  diflference  I  know  there  is,  and  a  diverse  consideration 
to  be  had,  between  such  a  country  as  France  is,  strengthened  with 
juanj'^  fortified  places,  and  this  of  ours,  where  our  ramparts  are 
but  the  bodies  of  men.  But  I  say  that  an  army  to  be  transported 
over  sea,  and  to  be  landed  again  in  an  enemy's  country,  and  the 
place  left  to  the  clioice  of  the  invader,  cannot  be  resisted  on  the 
coast  of  England  withoiit  a  fleet  to  impeach  it;  no,  nor  on  the 
coast  of  France,  or  any  other  country,  except  every  creek,  poit,  or 
sandy  bay  liad  a  powerful  army  in  each  of  them  to  make  opposi- 
tion. For  let  the  supposition  be  granted  that  Kent  is  able  to  fur- 
nish twelve  thousand  foot,  and  that  those  twelve  thousand  be  layed 
in  the  three  l;est  landing-places  within  that  country,  to  wit,  three 
thousand  at  Margat,  three  thousand  at  the  Nesse,  and  six  thousand 
at  FoulkstoLC,  tuat  is,  somewhat  equally  distant  from  them  both, 
as  also  that  two  of  these  troojDS  (unless  some  otherorder be  thought 
naore  fit)  be  directed  to  strengthen  the  third,  when  they  shall  see 
the  enemy's  fleet  to  head  toward  it:  I  say,  that  notwithstanding 
this  provision,  if  the  enemy,  setting  sail  from  the  Isle  of  Wight,  in 
the  first  watch  of  the  night,  and  towing  their  long  boats  at  tlieir 
sterns,  shall  arrive  by  dawn  of  day  at  the  Nesse,  and  thrust  their 
army  on  shore  there,  it  will  be  hard  for  those  three  thousand  that 
are  at  Margat  (twenty-and-four  long  miles  from  thence)  to  come 
time  enough  to  re-enforce  their  fellows  at  the  Nesse.  Nay,  how 
shall  they  at  Foulkstone  be  able  to  do  it,  who  are  nearer  by  more 
than  half  the  way  ?  seeing  that  the  enemy,  at  his  first  arrival,  will 
either  make  his  entrance  by  force,  with  three  or  four  shot  of  great 
artillery,  and  quickly  put  the  first  three  thousand  that  are  in- 
trenched at  the  Nesse  to  run,  or  else  give  them  so  much  to  do  that 
they  shall  be  glad  to  send  for  help  to  Foulkstone,  and  perhajjs  to 
Margat,  whereby  those  jjlaces  will  be  left  bare.  Now  let  us  sup- 
pose that  all  the  twelve  thousand  Kentish  soldiers  arrive  at  the 
Nesse  ere  the  enemy  can  be  ready  to  disembarque  his  army,  so 
that  he  will  find  it  unsafe  to  land  in  the  face  of  so  many  prepared 
to  withstand  him,  yet  must  we  believe  that  he  will  jjlay  the  best 
to  his  own  game  (having  liberty  to  go  which  way  he  list),  and 
under  covert  of  the  night,  set  sail  toward  the  east,  where  what 
shall  hinder  him  to  take  ground  either  at  Margat,  the  Downes,  or 
elsewhere,  before  they  at  the  Nesse  can  be  well  aware  of  his  de- 
parture 'i*     Certainly  tliere  is  nothing  more  easy  than  to  do  it.  Yea, 


DEFEAT  OF  THE  SPAXISH  ARMADA.  205 

the  like  may  be  said  of  'Weymoiith,  Purbeck,  Poole,  and  of  all 
landing-places  oii  the  southwest ;  for  there  is  no  man  ignorant  that 
ships,  without  putting  themselves  out  of  breath,  will  easily  oiitrun 
the  sol  tiers  that  coast  them.  '  L'>s  armees  ne  volent  point  enposlc:' 
'  Armies  neither  flye  nor  run  post,'  saith  a  marshal  of  France.  And  I 
know  it  to  be  true,  that  a  fleet  of  ships  may  be  seen  at  sunset,  and 
after  it  at  the  Lizard,  yet  by  the  nest  morning  they  may  recovt  r 
Portland,  whereas  an  army  of  foot  shall  not  be  able  to  march  it  in 
six  dav'es.  Again,  when  those  troops  lodged  on  the  sea-shores 
shall  be  forced  to  run  from  place  to  place  in  vain,  after  a  fle- 1  of 
ships,  they  will  at  length  sit  down  in  the  midway,  and  leave  all  at 
adventure.  But  say  it  were  otherwise,  that  the  invading  enemy 
will  offer  to  land  in  some  such  place  where  there  shall  be  an  army 
of  ours  ready  to  receive  him  ;  yet  it  cannot  be  doubted  but  that 
when  the  choice  of  all  our  trained  bands,  and  the  choice  of  our 
commanders  and  captains,  shall  be  drawn  together  (as  they  were 
at  Tilbury  in  the  year  1588)  to  attend  the  person  of  the  prince, 
and  for  the  defense  of  the  city  of  London,  they  that  remain  to 
guard  the  coast  can  be  of  no  such  force  as  to  encounter  an  army 
like  unto  that  wherewith  it  was  intended  that  the  Prince  of  Parma 
Bhoiild  have  landed  in  England. 

"For  end  of  this  digr  ssion,  I  hope  that  this  question  shall  never 
come  to  trial  :  his  majesty's  many  movable  forts  will  forbid  the 
experience.  And  although  the  English  will  no  less  disdain,  than 
any  nation  imder  heaven  can  do,  to  be  beaten  upon  their  own 
ground,  or  elsewhere,  by  a  foreign  enemy,  yet  to  entertain  those 
that  shall  assail  us,  with  their  own  beef  in  their  bellies  and  before 
they  eat  of  our  Kentish  capons,  I  take  it  to  be  the  wisest  way  ;  to 
do  which  his  maj^^sty,  after  God,  will  employ  his  good  ships  on 
the  sea,  and  not  trust  in  any  intrenchment  upon  the  shore." 

The  introduction  of  steam  as  a  propelling  jDower  at  sea  has  added 
ten-fold  weight  to  these  arguments  of  Kaleigh.  On  the  other  hand, 
a  well-constructed  system  of  rail-ways,  especially  of  coast-lines, 
aided  by  the  o-peration  of  the  electric  telegraph,  would  give  facili- 
ties for  concentrating  a  defensive  army  to  oppose  an  enemy  on 
landing,  and  for  moving  troops  from  place  to  place  in  observation 
of  the  movements  of  the  hostile  fleet,  such  as  would  have  aston- 
ished Sir  Walter,  even  more  than  the  sight  of  vessels  passing 
rapidly  to  and  fro  without  the  aid  of  wind  or  tide.  The  observation 
of  the  French  marshal,  whom  he  quotes,  is  now  no  longer  correct. 
Armies  can  be  made  to  pass  from  place  to  ]ilace  almost  with  the 
speed  of  wings,  and  far  more  rapidly  than  any  post-travelling  that 
was  known  in  the  Elizabethan  or  any  other  age.  Still,  tlie  pres- 
ence of  a  sufficient  armed  force  at  the  right  spot,  at  the  right  time, 
can  never  be  made  a  matter  of  certainty  ;  and  even  after  the 
changes  that  have  taken  place,  no  one  can  doubt  but  that  the  pol- 
icy of  Ralei'^h  is  that  which  England  should  ever  seek  to  follow  in 
defensive  war.     At  the  time  of  the  Armada,  that  policy  certainly 


206  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

saved  the  country,  if  not  from  conquest,  at  least  from  deplorable 
calamities.  If  indeed  tl\c  enemy  had  landed,  we  maybe  sure  that 
he  would  have  been  heroically  opposed.  But  history  ahov.'s  us  so 
many  examples  of  the  superiority  of  veteran  troops  over  new 
levies,  however  numei-ous  and  brave,  that,  without  disparaging 
our  countrymen's  soldierly  merits,  we  may  well  be  thankful  that 
no  trial  of  them  was  then  made  on  English  land.  Especially 
must  we  feel  this  when  we  contrast  the  high  l  .ilitary  genius  of  the 
Prince  of  Parma,  who  would  have  headed  the  Spaniards,  with  the 
imbecility  of  the  Earl  of  Liecester,  to  whom  tho  deplorable  spirit 
of  favoritism,  which  formed  the  great  blemish  en  Elizabeth's  char- 
acter, had  then  committed  the  chief  command  of  the  English 
armies. 

The  ships  of  the  royal  navy  at  t>lt.Vime  amounted  to  no  more 
than  thirty-six  ;  but  the  most  sej  ,'iceable  merchant  vessels  were 
collected  from  all  the  ports  of  tUe  country  ;  and  the  citizens  of 
London,  Bristol,  and  the  othfcf  great  seats  of  commerce  showed  as 
liberal  a  zeal  in  equipjiing  and  manning  vessels,  as  the  nobility 
and  gentry  disployed  in  mustering  forces  by  land.  The  seafaring 
population  of  t'^e  const,  of  every  rank  and  station,  was  animated 
by  the  same  r  'ady  spirit ;  and  the  whole  number  of  seamen  who 
came  forward  to  man  the  English  fleet  was  17,472.  The  number 
of  the  siiips  that  were  collected  was  191 ;  and  the  total  amount  of 
their  tonnage,  31,985.  There  was  one  ship  in  the  fleet  (the  Tr'i- 
uniph)  of  1100  tons,  one  of  1000,  one  of  900,  two  of  800  each,  three 
of  GOO,  five  of  500,  five  of  400,  six  of  300,  six  of  250,  twenty  of  200, 
and  the  residue  of  inferior  burden.  Application  was  made  to  tho 
Dutch  for  assistance  ;  and,  as  Stowe  expresses  it,  "The  Hollanders 
came  roundly  in,  with  threescore  sail,  brave  ships  of  war,  fierce 
and  full  of  spleen,  not  so  much  for  England's  aid,  as  in  just  occa- 
sion for  their  own  defense  :  these  men  foreseeing  the  greatness  of 
the  danger  that  might  ensiie  if  the  Spaniards  should  chance  to  win 
ihe  day  and  get  tlie  mastery  over  them;  and  in  due  regard  whereof, 
their  manly  courage  was  inferior  to  none." 

We  have  more  mimite  information  of  the  number  and  equipmenfi 
of  the  hostile  forces  than  we  have  of  our  own.  In  the  first  volume 
of  Hakluyt's  "Voyages,"  dedicated  to  Lord  Effingham,  who  com- 
manded against  the  Armada,  there  is  given  (from  the  contemporary 
foreign  writer,  Meteran)  a  more  complete  and  detailed  catalogue 
than  has  perhaps  ever  appeared  of  a  similar  armament. 

'  'A  very  large  and  particular  description  of  thisnavie  was  put  in 
print  ancl  published  by  the  Spaniards,  wherein  was  set  downs  the 
number,  names,  and  burthens  of  the  shippes,  the  number  of  mar- 
iners and  soldiers  tliroughout  the  whole  fleete  ;  likewise  the  quan- 
titie  of  their  ordinance,  of  their  armor,  of  bullets,  of  match,  of 
gun-poulder,  of  victuals,  and  of  all  their  navall  furniture  was  in 
the  saide  description  particularized.  Unto  all  these  were  added 
the  names  of  the  governours,  captaines,  noblemen,  and  gentlemen 


BEFEA  T  OF  TEE  SPANISU  ARMADA.  207 

voluntaries,  of  -whom  there  ■was  so  great  a  multitude,  that  scarce 
was  there  any  family  of  accompt.or  any  one  princii^all  man  through- 
out all  Si)aine,  that  had  not  a  brother,  sonne,  or  kinsman  in  that 
fleete  ;  who  all  of  them  were  in  good  hope  to  piirchase  unto  them- 
selves in  that  navie  (as  they  termed  it)  invincible,  endless  glory 
and  renown,  and  to  possess  themselves  of  great  seigniories  and 
riches  in  England  and  in  the  Low  Countreys.  But  because  tho 
said  description  was  translated  and  published  out  of  Spanish  into 
divers  other  languages,  we  will  here  only  make  an  abridgement  or 
brief  rehearsal  thereof. 

"Portugall  furnished  and  set  foorth  under  the  conduct  of  the 
Duke  of  ]\Iedina  Sidonia,  generall  of  the  fleete,  10  galeons,  2  zabraes 
1300  mariners,  3,300  soldiers,  300  great  pieces,  with  all  requisite 
furniture. 

"  Biscay,  under  the  conduct  of  John  Martines  de  Kicalde,  admi- 
ral of  the  whole  fleete,  set  forth  10  galeons,  4  pataches,  700  mariners, 
2000  soldiers,  250  great  pieces,  ttc. 

"  Guipusco,  under  the  conduct  of  Michael  de  Oquendo,  10  gal- 
eons, 4  pataches,  700  mariners,  2,000  souldiers,  310  great  pieces. 

"Italy,  with  the  Levant  islands,  under  Martine  de  Yertendona, 
10  galeons,  700  mariners,  2,000  souldiers,  310  great  pieces,  &c. 

"Castile,  under  Diego  Flores  de  Yaldez,  l-l  galeons,  2  pataches, 
1700  mariners,  2,400  souldiers,  and  380  great  pieces,  &c. 

"Andalusia,  under  the  conduct  of  Petro  de  Yaldez,  10  galeons,  1 
patache,  800  mariners,  2,400  souldiers,  280  great  pieces,  &c. 

"Item,  under  the  conduct  of  John  Lopez  de  iledina,  23  great 
Flemish  hulkes,  with  700  mariners,  3,200  soiildiers,  and  400  great 
pieces. 

"  Item,  under  Hugo  de  Moncada,  4  galliasses,  containing  1200 
gally-slaves,  460  mariners,  870  souldiers,  200  great  pieces,  ic. 

"Item,  under  Diego  do  Mandrana,  4  gallies  of  Portugall,  with 
888  gally-slaves,  360  mariners,  20  great  pieces,  and  other  requisite 
furniture. 

"Item,  under  Anthonie  de  Mendoza,  22  pataches  and  zabraes, 
with  574  mariners,  488  souldiers,  and  193  great  pieces. 

"  Besides  tho  ships  aforementioned,  there  M'ere  20  caravels, 
rowed  with  oars,  being  appointed  to  perform  necessary  services 
under  the  greater  ships,  insomuch  as  all  the  ships  appertayning 
to  this  navie  amounted  unto  the  summe  of  150,  eche  one  being 
sufficiently  provided  of  furnitiire  and  victuals. 

"The  number  of  mariners  in  the  saide  fleete  were  above  8,000, 
ofslaves  2,088  of  souldiers  20,000  (besides  noblemen  and  gentlemen 
voluntaries\  of  great  cast  j^ieces  2,600.  The  foresaid  ships  were 
of  an  huge  and  incredible  capacitie  and  receipt,  for  the  whole  fleeto 
was  large  enough  to  containe  the  burthen  of  00,000  tunnes. 

"  The  galeons  were  Gl  in  number,  being  of  an  huge  bignesse,  and 
very  flately  built,  being  of  marvellous  force  also,  and  so  high  that 
they  resembled  great  castles,  most  fit  to  defend  themselves  and  to 


208  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

■withstand  any  assault,  but  in  giving  any  other  ships  the  encounter 
farr  inferiour  unto  the  English  and  Dutch  ships,  which  can  with 
great  dexteritie  wield  and  turne  themselves  at  all  assayes.  The 
upper  worke  of  the  said  galeons  was  ofthicknesse  and  strength  suf- 
ficient to  beare  otf  musket-shot.  The  lower  worke  and  the  timbers 
thereof  were  out  of  measure  strong,  being  framed  of  planks  and 
ribs  foure  or  five  foote  in  thicknesse,  insomuch  that  no  bullets 
coiild  pierce  them  but  such  as  were  discharged  hard  at  hand,  which 
afterward  prooyed  true,  for  great  number  of  bullets  were  founde 
to  sticke  fast  within  the  massie  substance  of  those  thicke  plankes. 
Great  and  well-pitched  cables  were  twined  about  the  masts  of  their 
shippes,  to  strengthen  them  against  the  battery  of  shot. 

"  The  galliasses  were  of  such  bignesse  that  they  contained  within 
them  chambers,  chapels,  turrets,  pulpits  and  other  commodities  of 
great  houses.  The  galliasses  were  rowed  with  great  oares,  there  being 
in  eche  one  of  them  3U0  slaves  for  the  same  purpose,  and  were  able 
to  do  great  service  with  the  force  of  their  ordinance.  All  these, 
together  with  the  residue  aforenamed,  were  furnished  and  beauti- 
fied with  trumpets,  streamers,  banners,  warlike  ensignes,  and  other 
such  like  ornaments. 

"Their  pieces  of  brazen  ordinance  were  1600,  and  of  yron  a 
1000. 

"The  biillets  thereto  belonging  were  120,000. 

"Item  of  giin-poulder,  5,000  quintals.  Of  matche,  1200  quin- 
tals. Of  muskets  and  kaleivers,  7,000.  Of  haleberts  and  partizans, 
10,000. 

"Moreover,  they  had  great  stores  of  canons,  double-canons, 
culverings  and  field-pieces  for  land  services. 

"Likewise  they  were  provided  of  all  instruments  necessary  on 
land  to  conveigh  and  transport  their  furniture  from  place  to  place, 
as  namely  of  carts,  wheeles,  wagons,  &c.  Also  they  had  spades, 
mattocks,  and  baskets  to  set  pioners  on  worke.  They  had  in  like 
sort  great  store  of  mules  and  horses,  and  whatsoever  else  was 
requisite  for  a  land  armie.  They  were  so  well  stored  of  biscuit, 
that  for  the  space  of  halfe  a  yeere  they  might  allow  eche  person 
in  the  whole  fleete  halfe  a  quintall  every  moneth,  whereof  the 
whole  summe  amounteth  unto  an  hundreth  thousand  quintals. 

"Likewise  of  wine  they  had  147,000  pipes,  sufiiciei;t  also  for 
halfe  a  yeere's  expedition.  Of  bacon,  G,500  quintals.  Of  cheese, 
3,000  quintals.     Besides  fish,  rise,  beanes,  pease,  oile,  vinegar,  &c. 

Moreover,  they  had  12,000  pipes  of  fresh  water,  and  all  other 
necessary  provision  as  namely,  candles,  lanternes,  lampes,  sailes, 
hempe,  oxe-hides,  and  lead,  to  stop  holes  that  should  be  made  with 
the  battery  of  gunshot.  To  be  short,  they  brought  all  things  ex- 
pedient, either  for  a  fleete  by  sea,  or  for  an  armie  by  land. 

"This  navie  (as  Diego  Pimentelli  afterward  confessed)  was  es- 
teemed by  the  king  himselfe  to  containe  32,000  persons,  and  to 
cost  him  every  day  30,000  ducates. 


DEFEAT  OF  THE  SPANISH  ARMADA.  209 

"There  were  in  the  said  navie  five  terzaes  of  Spaniards  (which 
terzaes  the  Frenchmen  call  regiments"),  under  the  command  of 
five  governours,  termed  by  the  Spaniards  masters  of  the  field, 
and  among  the  rest  there  were  many  olde  and  expert  souldiers 
chosen  out  of  the  garisons  of  Sicilie,  Najdes,  and  Tergera.  Their 
captaines  or  colonels  were  Diego  Pimentelli,  Don  Francisco  de 
Toledo,  Don  Alonoo  de  Lugon,  Don  Nicolas  de  Isla,  Don  Augus- 
tin  de  Mexia,  who  had  eche  of  them  thirty-two  comiaanies  under 
their  conduct.  Besides  the  which  companies,  there  were  many 
bands  also  of  Castilians  and  Portiigals,  every  one  of  which  had 
their  peculiar  governours,  captains,  oQicers,  colors,  and  weapons." 

"While  this  huge  armament  was  making  ready  in  the  southern 
ports  of  the  Spanish  dominions,  the  Duke  of  Parma,  with  almost 
incredible  toil  and  skill,  collected  a  squadron  of  war-shijDS  at  Dun- 
kirk, and  a  large  flotilla  of  other  ships  and  of  flat-bottomed  boats 
for  the  transport  to  England  of  the  picked  troops,  which  were 
designed  to  be  the  mam  instruments  in  subduing  England.  The 
design  of  the  Spaniards  was  that  the  Armada  should  give  them,  at 
least  for  a  time,  the  command  of  the  sea,  and  that  it  should  join 
the  squadron  that  Parma  had  collected  off  Calais.  Then,  escorted 
by  an  overpowering  naval  force,  Parma  and  his  army  were  to  em- 
bark in  their  flotilla,  and  cross  the  sea  to  England,  where  they 
were  to  be  landed,  together  with  the  troops  which  the  Armada 
brought  from  the  ports  of  Spain.  The  scheme  was  not  dissimilar 
to  one  formed  against  England  a  little  more  than  two  centuries 
afterward. 

As  Napoleon,  in  1805,  waited  with  his  army  and  flotilla  at 
Boulogne,  looking  for  Villeneuve  to  drive  away  the  English  cruisers, 
and  secure  him  a  passage  across  the  Channel,  so  Parma,  in  1588, 
waited  for  Medina  Sidonia  to  drive  away  the  Dutch  and  English 
squadrons  that  watched  his  flotilla,  and  to  enable  his  veterans  to 
cross  the  sea  to  the  land  that  they  were  to  conquer.  Thanks  to 
Providence,  in  each  case  England's  enemy  waited  in  vain ! 

AlthoTigh  the  numbers  of  sail  which  the  queen's  government  and 
the  patriotic  zeal  of  volunteers  had  collected  for  the  defense  of 
England  exceeded  the  nirmber  of  sail  in  the  Spanish  fleet,  the 
English  ships  were,  collectively,  far  inferior  in  size  to  their  adver- 
saries, their  aggregate  tonnage  being  less  by  half  than  that  of  the 
enemy.  In  the  number  of  guns  and  weight  of  metal,  the  dispro* 
portion  was  still  greater.  The  English  admiral  was  also  obliged 
to  subdivide  his  force  ;  and  Lord  Henry  Seymour,  with  forty  of 
the  best  Dutch  and  English  ships,  was  employed  in  blockading 
the  hostile  ports  in  Flanders,  and  in  jDreventing  the  Duke  of  Parma 
from  coming  oiit  of  Dunkirk. 

TJie  In^-ixcible  Akmada,  as  the  Spaniards  in  the  pride  of  their 
hearts  named  it,  sot  sail  from  the  Tagus  on  tiie  29th  of  May,  but 
near  Corunna  met  with  a  tempest  that  drove  it  into  port  with 
severe  loss.     It  was  the  report  of  the  damage  done  to  the  enemy 


210  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

by  this  storm  which  had  caused  the  English  court  to  suppose  that 
there  would  be  no  invasion  that  year.  But,  as  already  mentioned, 
the  English  admiral  had  sailed  to  Corunna,  and  learned  the  real 
state  of  the  case,  whence  he  ha,d  returned  with  his  ships  to 
Plymouth.  The  Armada  sailed  again  from  Corunna  on  the  12th  of 
July.  The  orders  of  King  Philip  to  the  Duke  de  Medina  Sidonia 
were,  that  he  should,  on  entering  the  Channel,  keep  near  the 
French  coast,  and,  if  attacked  by  the  English  sliij^s,  avoid  an  action 
and  steer  on  to  Calais  Koads,  where  the  Prince  of  Parma's  squadron, 
was  to  join  him.  The  hopes  of  surprising  and  destroying  the 
English  fleet  in  Plymouth  led  the  Spanish  admiral  to  deviate  from 
these  orders  and  to  stand  across  to  the  English  shore ;  but,  on 
finding  that  Lord  Howard  was  coming  out  to  meet  him,  he  resumed 
the  original  plan,  and  determined  to  bend  his  way  steadily  toward 
Calais  and  Dunkirk,  and  to  keep  merely  on  the  defensive  against 
such  squadrons  of  the  English  as  might  come  up  with  him. 

It  was  on  Saturday,  the  20th  of  July,  that  Lord  Ef&ngham  came 
in  sight  of  his  formidable  adversaries.  The  Armada  was  drawn 
up  in  the  form  of  a  crescent,  which,  from  horn  to  horn,  measured 
some  seven  miles.  There  was  a  southwest  wind,  and  before  it  the 
vast  vessels  sailed  slowly  on.  The  English  let  them  pass  by  ;  and 
then  following  in  the  rear,  commenced  an  attack  on  them.  A 
running  fight  now  took  place,  in  which  some  of  the  best  ships  of 
the  Spaniards  were  captured  ;  many  more  received  heavy  damage  ; 
while  the  English  vessels,  which  took  care  not  to  close  with  their 
huge  antagonists,  but  availed  themselves  of  their  superior  celerity 
in  tacking  and  maneuvering,  suffered  little  comparative  loss.  Each 
day  added  not  only  to  the  spirit,  but  to  the  number  of  Effingham's 
force.  Ealeigh,  Oxford,  Cumberland,  and  Sheffield  joined  him  ; 
and  "the  gentlemen  of  England  hired  ships  from  all  parts  at  their 
own  charge,  and  with  one  accord  came  flocking  thither  as  to  a  set 
field,  where  glory  was  to  be  attained,  and  faithful  service  performed 
unto  their  prince  and  their  country." 

Ealeigh  justly  praises  the  English  admiral  for  his  skilful  tactics. 
Kaleigh  says,*  "Certainly,  he  that  will  happily  perform  a  fight  at 
sea  must  be  skilful  in  making  choice  of  vessels  to  fight  in  :  he 
must  believe  that  there  is  more  belonging  to  a  good  man  of  war, 
upon  the  waters,  than  great  daring ;  and  must  know,  that  there  is 
^a  great  deal  of  difference  between  fighting  loose  or  at  large  and 
grappling.  The  guns  of  a  slow  ship  pierce  as  well,  and  make  as 
great  holes,  as  those  in  a  swift.  To  clap  ships  together,  without 
consideration,  belongs  rather  to  a  madman  than  to  a  man  of  war;  for 
by  such  an  ignorant  bravery  was  Peter  Strossie  lost  at  the  Azores, 
when  he  fought  against  the  Marquis  of  Santa  Cruza.  In  like  sort 
had  the  Lord  Charles  Howard,  admiral  of  England,  been  lost  in 
the  year  1588,  if  he  had  not  been  better  advised  than  a  great  many 

*  "  Historic  of  tbe  World,"  p.  791. 


DEFEAT  OF  THE  SPANISH  ARMADA.  211 

malignant  fools  were  that  found  fault  with  his  demeanor.  The 
Spaniards  had  an  army  aboard  them,  and  he  had  none  ;  they  had 
more  ships  than  he  had,  and  of  higher  building  and  charging  ;  so 
that,  had  he  entangled  himself  with  those  great  and  powerful 
vessels,  he  had  greatly  endangered  this  kingdom  of  England  ;  for 
twenty  men  upon  the  defenses  are  equal  to  a  hundred  that  board 
and  enter ;  whereas  then,  contrariwise,  the  Spaniards  had  a  hun- 
dred, for  twenty  of  ours,  to  defend  themselves  withal.  But  our 
admiral  knew  his  advantage,  and  held  it ;  which  had  he  not  done, 
he  had  not  been  worthy  to  have  held  his  head." 
'  The  Spanish  admiral  also  showed  great  judgment  and  firmness 
in  following  the  line  of  conduct  that  had  been  traced  out  for  him  ; 
and  on  the  27th  of  July,  he  broiight  his  fleet  unbroken,  though 
sorely  distressed,  to  anchor  in  Calais  Roads.  But  the  King  of  Sioain 
had  calculated  ill  the  niimber  and  the  activity  of  the  English  and 
Dutch  fleets  ;  as  the  old  historian  expresses  it,  "  It  seemeth  that 
the  Duke  of  Parma  and  the  Spaniards  grounded  upon  a  vain  and 
presumptuous  exiDectation,  that  all  the  ships  of  England  and  of 
the  Low  Countreys  would  at  the  first  sight  of  the  Spanish  and 
Dunkerk  navie  have  betaken  themselves  to  flight,  yielding  them 
sea-room,  and  endeavoring  only  to  defend  themselves,  their  havens, 
and  sea-coasts  from  invasion.  Wherefore  their  intent  and  purpose 
was,  that  the  Duke  of  Parma,  in  his  small  and  flat-bottomed  ships, 
should,  as  it  were  under  the  shadow  and  wings  of  the  Spanish 
fleet,  convey  ouer  all  his  troupes,  armor,  and  war-like  provisions, 
and  with  their  forces  so  united,  shoiild  invade  England  :  or  while 
the  English  fleet  were  busied  in  fight  against  the  Spanish,  should 
enter  upon  any  part  of  the  coast,  which  he  thought  to  be  most 
convenient.  Which  invasion  (as  the  captives  afterward  confessed) 
the  Duke  of  Parma  thought  first  to  have  attempted  by  the  Kiverof 
Thames  ;  upon  the  banks  whereof  having  at  the  first  arrivall 
landed  twenty  or  thirty  thousand  of  his  principall  souldiers,he  sup- 
posed that  he  might  easily  have  woonne  the  citie  of  London  ;  both 
because  his  small  shi^jpes  should  have  followed  and  assisted  his 
land  forces,  and  also  for  that  the  citie  it-selfe  was  but  meanely 
fortified  and  easie  to  ouercome,  by  reason  of  the  citizens'  delicacie 
and  discontinuance  from  the  warres,  who,  with  continuall  and 
constant  labor,  might  be  vanquished,  if  they  yielded  not  at  the 
first  assault."* 

But  the  English  and  Dutch  found  ships  and  mariners  enough  to 
keep  the  Armada  itself  in  check,  and  at  the  same  time  to  block  up 
Parma's  flotilla.  The  greater  part  of  Seymour's  squadron  left  its 
cruising-ground  off  Dunkirk  to  join  the  English  admiral  off 
Calais  ;  but  the  Dutch  iftanned  about  five-and-thirty  sail  of  good 
ships,  with  a  strong  force  of  soldiers  on  board,  all  well  seasoned  to 
the  sea-service,  and  with  these  they  blockaded  the  Flemish  porta 

•  Hakluyt'a  "  Voyatfes,''  toI.  1.,  p.  601. 


212  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

that  were  in  Parma's  power.  Still  it  was  resolved  by  the  Spanish 
admiral  and  the  prince  to  endeavor  to  efi'ecta  junction,  which  the 
English  seamen  were  equally  resolute  to  prevent ;  and  bolder 
measures  on  our  side  now  became  necessarj. 

The  Arnicida  lay  off  Calais,  -with  its  largest  ships  ranged  outside, 
"  like  strong  castles  fearing  no  assault,  the  lesser  placed  in  the 
middle  ward."  The  English  admiral  could  not  attack  them  in 
their  position  without  great  disadvantage,  but  on  the  night  of  the 
29th  he  sent  eight  fire-shiijs  among  them,  with  almost  eqvial  effect 
to  that  of  the  fire-ships  which  the  Greeks  so  often  em23loyed  against 
the  Turkish  fleets  in  their  late  war  of  independence.  The  Span- 
iards ciit  their  cables  and  put  to  sea  in  confusion.  One  of  the 
largest  galeasses  ran  foul  of  another  vessel  and  was  stranded. 
The  rest  of  the  fleet  was  scattered  about  on  the  Flemish  coast,  and 
when  the  morning  broke,  it  was  with  difficulty  and  delay  that 
they  obeyed  their  admiral's  signal  to  range  themselves  round  him 
near  Gravelines.  Now  was  the  golden  ojiportunity  for  the  English 
to  assail  them,  and  prevent  them  from  ever  letting  loose  Parma's 
flotilla  against  England,  and  nobly  was  that  opiDortunity  used. 
Drake  and  Fenner  were  the  first  English  captains  who  attacked 
the  unwieldy  leviathans  ;  then  came  Fenton,  Southwell,  Burton, 
Cross,  Eaynor,  and  then  the  lord  admiral,  with  Lord  Thomas 
Howard  and  Lord  Shefiield.  The  Spaniards  only  thought  of  form- 
ing and  keeping  close  together,  and  were  driven  by  the  English 
past  Dunkirk,  and  far  away  from  the  Prince  of  Parma,  who,  in 
watching  their  defeat  from  the  coast,  must,  as  Drake  expressed  it, 
have  chafed  like  a  bear  robbed  of  her  whelps.  This  was  indeed 
the  last  and  the  decisive  battle  between  the  two  fleets.  It  is,  per- 
haps, best  described  in  the  very  words  of  the  contemporary 
writer,  as  we  may  read  them  in  Hakluyt.* 

"UiDon  the  29th  of  July  in  the  morning,  the  Spanish  fleet  after 
the  forsayd  tumult,  having  arranged  themselues  againe  into  order, 
were,  within  sight  of  Greveling,  most  bravely  and  furiously  en- 
countered by  the  English,  where  they  once  again  got  the  wind  of 
the  Spaniards,  who  sufi"ered  themseues  to  be  deprived  of  the  com- 
modity of  the  place  in  Caleis  Road,  and  of  the  advantage  of  the 
wind  neer  unto  Dunkerk,  rather  than  they  would  change  their  ar- 
ray or  separate  their  forces  now  conjoyned  and  united  together, 
standing  only  ui^on  their  defense. 

"And  albeit  there  were  many  excellent  and  warlike  ships  in  the 
English  fleet,  yet  scarce  were  there  22  or  23  among  them  all, 
which  matched  90  of  the  SjDanish  ships  in  the  bigness,  or  could 
conveniently  assault  them.  Wherefore  the  English  shippcs  using 
their  prerogative  of  nimble  steerage,  whereby  they  could  turn  and 
weild  themselves  with  the  wind,  which  way  they  listed,  came 
often  times  very  near  upon  the  Spaniards,  and  charged  them   so 

Vol.  1.-,  p.  602. 


DEFEAT  OF  THE  SPAXISH  AIi2fADA.  213 

Bore,  that  now  and  then  they  were  but  a  pike's  length  asunder  ; 
and  so  continually  giving  them  one  broad  side  after  another,  they 
discharged  all  their  shot,  both  great  and  small,  upon  them,  spend- 
ing one  whole  day,  from  morning  till  night,  in  that  violent  kind 
of  conHict,  untill  such  time  as  powder  and  biiUets  failed  them. 
In  regard  of  which  want  they  thoiight  it  convenient  not  to  pursue 
the  Spaniards  any  longer,  because  they  had  many  great  vantages 
of  the  English,  namely,  for  the  extraordinary  bigness  of  their 
shippes,  and  also  for  that  they  were  so  neerely  conjoyned,  and 
kept  together  in  so  good  array,  that  they  could  by  no  meanes  be 
fought  withall  one  to  one.  The  English  thought,  therefore,  that 
they  had  right  well  acquitted  themselves  in  chasing  the  S^Dan- 
iards  first  from  Caleis,  and  then  from  Dmnkerk,  and  by  that  meanes 
to  have  hindered  them  from  joyning  with  the  Duke  of  Parma  his 
forces,  and  getting  the  wind  of  them,  to  have  driven  them  from 
their  own  coasts. 

"The  Spaniards  that  day  sustained  great  loss  and  damage,  hav- 
ing many  of  their  shippes  shot  thorow  and  thorow,  and  they  dis- 
charged likewise  great  store  of  ordinance  against  the  English  ; 
who,  indeed,  sustained  some  liinderance,  but  not  comparable  to 
the  Spaniard's  loss;  for  they  lost  not  any  one  ship  or  person  of 
account;  for  very  diligent  inquisition  being  made,  the  Englishmen 
all  that  time  wherein  the  Spanish  navy  sayled  upon  their  seas, 
are  not  found  to  haue  wanted  aboue  one  hundred  of  their  people  ; 
albeit  Sir  Francis  Drake's  ship  was  pierced  with  shot  aboue  forty 
times,  and  his  very  cabbcn  v.as  twice  shot  thorow,  and  about  the 
conclusion  of  the  fight,  the  bed  of  a  certaine  gentleman  lying 
weary  thereupon,  was  taken  quite  from  under  him  with  the  force 
of  a  bullet.  Likewise,  as  the  Earle  of  Northumberland  and  Sir 
Charles  Blunt  were  at  dinner  upon  a  time,  the  bullet  of  a  demy- 
culvering  brake  thorow  the  middest  of  their  cabben,  touched  their 
feet,  and  strooke  downe  two  of  the  standers-by,  with  many  such 
accidents  befalling  the  English  shippes,  which  it  were  tedious  to 
rehearse. " 

It  reflects  little  credit  on  the  English  government  that  the  En- 
glish fleet  was  so  deficiently  supplied  with  ammunition  as  to  be 
unable  to  complete  the  destruction  of  the  invaders.  Uut  enough 
was  d  ne  to  insure  it.  Many  of  the  largest  Spanish  ships  were 
sunk  or  cai)tured  in  the  action  of  this  day.  And  at  length  the 
Spanish  admiral,  despairing  of  success,  fled  northward  with  a 
southerly  wind,  in  the  hoj^e  of  rounding  Scotland,  and  so  return- 
ing to  Sjiain  without  a  farther  encounter  with  the  English  tievt. 
Lord  Effingham  left  a  squadron  to  continue  the  blockade  of  the 
Prince  of  Parma's  armament;  but  that  wise  general  soon  withdrew 
his  troops  to  more  promising  fields  of  action.  Meanwhile  the  lord 
admiral  himself,  and  Drake,  chased  the  vincible  Armada,  as  it  was 
now  termed,  for  some  distance  northward;  and  then,  when  they 
seemed  to  bend  away  from  the  Scotch  coast  toward  Norway,  it  was 


214  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

thought  best,  in  the  words  of  Drake,  "to  leave  them  to  those  bois- 
terous and  uncouth  Northern  seas."  I 
The  sufferings  and  losses  which  the  unhappy  Spaniards  sustain- 
ed in  their  flight  round  Scotland  and  Ireland  are  well  known.  Of 
their  whole  Armada  only  fifty-three  shattered  vessels  brought  back 
their  beaten  and  wasted  crews  to  the  Spanish  coast  which  they 
had  quitted  in  such  pageantry  and  pride. 

Some  passages  from  the  writings  of  those  who  took  part  in  the 
struggle  have  been  already  quoted,  and  the  most  spirited  descrip- 
tion of  the  defeat  of  the  Armada  which  ever  was  penned  may 

I  perhaps  be  taken  from  the  letter  which  our  brave  Vice-admiral 
Drake  wrote  in  answer  to  some  mendacious  stories  by  which  the 
Spaniards  strove  to  hide  their  shame.  Thus  does  he  describe  the 
scenes  in  which  he  played  so  important  a  part.* 

"They  were  not  ashamed  to  publish,  in  sundry  languages  in 
print,  great  victories  in  words,  which  they  pretended  to  have  ob- 
tained against  this  realm,  and  spread  the  same  in  a  most  false  sort 
over  all  parts  of  France,  Italy,  and  elsewhere;  when,  shortly  after- 
ward, it  was  happily  manifested  in  very  deed  to  all  nations,  how 
their  navy,  which  they  termed  invincible,  consisting  of  one  hundred 
and  forty  sail  of  ships,  not  only  of  their  own  kingdom,  but 
strengthened  with  the  greatest  argosies,  Portugal  carracks,  Floren- 
tines, and  large  hulks  of  other  countries,  were  by  thirty  of  her 
majesty's  own  ships  of  war,  and  a  few  of  our  own  merchants,  by 
the  wise,  valiant,  and  advantageous  conduct  of  the  Lord  Charles 
Howard,  high  admiral  of  England,  beaten  and  shuffled  together 
even  from  the  Lizard  in  Cornwall,  first  to  Portland,  when  they 
shamefully  left  Don  Pedro  de  Valdez  with  his  mighty  ship;  from 
Portland  to  Calais,  where  they  lost  Hugh  de  Moncado,  with  the 
galleys  of  which  he  was  captain;  and  from  Calais,  driven  with 
squibs  from  their  anchors,  were  chased  out  of  the  sight  of  England, 
round  about  Scotland  and  Ireland;  where,  for  the  sympathy  of 
their  religion,  hoping  to  find  succor  and  assistance,  a  great  part  of 
them  were  crushed  against  the  rocks,  and  those  others  that  land- 
ed, being  very  many  in  number,  were,  notwithstanding,  broken, 
slain,  and  taken,  and  so  sent  from  village  to  village,  coupled  in 
halters  to  be  shipped  into  England,  where  her  majesty,  of  her 
princely  and  invincible  disposition,   disdaining  to  put  them  to 

'death,  and  scorning  either  to  retain  or  to  entertain  them,  they 
were  all  sent  back  again  to  their  countries,  to  witness  and  recount 
the  worthy  achievement  of  their  invincible  and  dreadful  navy.  Of 
which  the  number  of  soldiers,  the  fearful  burden  of  their  ships, 
the  commanders'  names  of  every  squadron,  with  all  others,  their 
magazines  of  provision,  were  put  in  print,  as  an  army  and  navy 
irresistible  and  disdaining  prevention;  with  all  which  their  great 

*  See  Strype.  and  the  notes  to  the  Lite  of  Drake,  in  the  "  Blographla 
Britaimlca." 


SYNOPSIS  OF  EVENTS,  ETC.  215 

and  terrible  ostentation,  they  did  not  in  all  their  sailing  ronnd 
about  England  so  much  as  sink  or  take  one  ship,  barque,  pinnace, 
or  cock-boat  of  ours,  or  ev^n  burn  so  much  as  one  sheep-cote  on 
this  land." 


Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Defeat  of  the  Spanish  Akmada, 

A.D.    1588,    AND   THE   BaTTLiE   OF   BuENHEIM,    A.D.    1704. 

A.D.  1594.  Henry  IV.  of  France  conforms  to  the  Roman  Catho- 
lic Church  and  ends  the  civil  wars  that  had  long  desolated  France. 

1598.  Philip  11.  of  Spain  dies  leaving  a  mined  navy  and  an  ex- 
hausted kingdom, 

1603.  Death  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  The  Scotch  dynasty  of  the 
Stuarts  succeeds  the  throne  of  England. 

1619.  Commencement  of  the  Thirty  Years'  "War  in  Germany. 

1624-1642.  Cardinal  Eichelieu  is  minister  of  France.  He  breaks 
the  power  of  nobility,  reduces  the  Huguenots  to  complete  subjec- 
tion, and  by  aiding  the  Protestant  German  princes  in  the  latter 
part  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War,  he  humiliates  France's  ancient  rival, 
Austria. 

1630.  Gustavus  Adolphus.King  of  Sweden, marches  into  Germany 
to  the  assistance  of  the  Protestants,  who  were  nearly  crushed  by 
the  Austrian  armies.  He  gains  several  great  victories,  and  after  his 
death,  Sweden,  under  his  statesmen  and  generals,  continues  to 
take  a  leading  part  in  the  war. 

1640.  Portugal  throws  off  the  Spanish  yoke;  and  the  house  of  Bra- 
ganza  begins  to  reign. 

1642.  Commencement  of  the  civil  war  in  England  between  Charles 
I.  and  his  Parliament. 

1648.  The  Thirty  Years'  War  in  Germany  ended  by  the  treaty  of 
Westphalia. 

1653.  Oliver  Cromwell  Lord  Protector  of  England. 

1660.  Restoration  of  the  Stuarts  to  the  English  throne. 

1661.  Louis  XIV.  takes  the  administration  of  affairs  in  France 
into  his  own  hands. 

1667-1668.  Louis  XTV.  makes  war  upon  Spain,  and  conquers  a 
large  part  of  the  Spanish  Netherlands. 

1672.  Louis  makes  war  upon  Holland,  and  almost  overpowers  it. 
Charles  II.,  of  England,  is  his  pensioner,  and  England  helps  the 
French  in  their  attacks  upon  Holland  until  1674.  Heroic  resistance 
of  the  Dutch  under  the  Prince  of  Orange. 

1674.  Louis  conquers  Franche-Comte. 

1679.  Peace  of  Nimeguen. 

1681.  Louis  invades  and  occupies  Alsace. 

1682.  Accession  of  Peter  the  Great  to  the  throDe  of  Russia. 


216  DECISIVE  BA  TTLES. 

1G85.  Louis  commences  a,  merciless  persecution  of  his  Protes- 
tant subjects. 

1GS8.  The  glorious  Eevolution  in  England.  Expulsion  of  James 
II.  'William  of  Orange  is  made  King  of  England.  James  takes 
refuge  at  the  French  court,  and  Louis  undertakes  to  restore  him. 
General  war  in  the  west  of  EurojDe. 

1697.  Treaty  of  Kyswick.  Charles  XII.  becomes  King  of  Swe- 
den. 

1700.  Charles  II.,  of  Spain,  dies,  having  bequeathed  his  domin- 
ions to  Philip  of  Anjou,  Loiiis  XIV. 's  grandson.  Defeat  of  the  Eus- 
sians  at  Narva  by  Charles  XII. 

1701.  Willam  III.  forms  a  "Grand  Alliance"  of  Austria,  the  Em- 
pire, the  United  Provinces,  England,  and  other  powers,  against 
Prance. 

1702.  King  William  dies;  but  Ms  successor,  Queen  Anne,  adheres 
to  the  Grand  Alliance,  and  war  is  proclaimed  against  France. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  BLENHEIM,  A.D,   1704. 

The  decisive  blow  struck  at  Blenheim  resounded  through  every  part  of 
Europe :  It  at  once  destroyed  the  vast  fabric  of  power  which  It  had  taken 
Louis  XIV.,  aided  by  tlie  talents  of  Turenne  and  the  genius  of  Vauban,  so 
long-  to  construct.— Alison. 

Though  more  slowly  moulded  and  less  imposingly  vast  than  the 
empire  of  Napoleon,  the  power  which  Louis  XIV.  had  acquired 
and  was  acqitiring  at  the  commencement  of  the  eighteenth  century 
was  almost  equally  menacing  to  the  general  liberties  of  Europe. 
If  tested  by  the  amount  of  permanent  aggrandizement  which  each 
procured  for  France,  the  ambition  of  the  royal  Bourbon  was  more 
successful  than  were  the  enteri:)rises  of  the  imperial  Corsican.  All 
the  provinces  that  Bonaparte  conquered  were  rent  again  from 
France  within  twenty  years  from  the  date  when  the  very  earliest  of 
them  was  acquired.  France  is  not  stronger  by  a  single  city  or  a 
single  acre  for  all  the  devastating  wars  of  the  Consulate  and  the 
Empire-  But  she  still  possesses  Franche-Comte,  Alsace,  and  part 
of  Flanders.  She  has  still  the  extended  boundaries  which  Louis 
XIV.  gave  her  ;  and  the  royal  Spanish  marriage  a  few  years  ago 
proved  clearly  how  enduring  has  been  the  political  influence  which 
the  arts  and  arms  of  France's  "Grand  Monarque  '"  obtained  for  her 
southward  of  the  Pyrenees. 

"When  Louis  XIV.  took  the  reins  of  government  into  his  own 
hands,  after  the  death  of  Cardinal  Mazarin,  there  was  a  union  of 
ability  with  opportunity  such  as  France  had  not  seen  since  tlie 


BATTLE  OF  BLENHEIM.  217 

days  of  Charlemagne.  Moreover,  Louis's  career  was  no  brief  one. 
For  upward  of  forty  years,  for  a  period  nearly  equal  to  the  dura- 
tion of  Charlemagne's  reign,  Louis  steadily  followed  an  aggressive 
and  a  generally  successful  policy.  He  passed  a  long  youth  and 
manhood  of  triumph  before  the  military  genius  of  Marlborough 
made  him  acquainted  with  humiliation  and  defeat.  The  great 
Bourbon  livedtoo  long.  He  should  not  have  outstayed  our  two 
English  kings,  one  his  dependent,  James  IL,  the  other  his  antag- 
onist, William  HI.  Had  he  died  when  they  died,  his  reign  woiild 
be  cited  as  uneqxialled  in  the  French  annals  for  its  prosperity. 
Biit  he  lived  on  to  see  his  armies  beaten,  his  cities  captured,  and 
his  kingdom  wasted  year  after  year  by  disastrous  war.  It  is  as  if 
Charlemagne  had  survived  to  be  defeated  by  the  Northmen,  and 
to  witness  the  misery  and  shame  that  actually  fell  to  the  lot  of  his 
descendants. 

Still,  Louis  XW.  had  forty  years  of  success  ;  and  from  the  per- 
manence of  their  fruits,  we  may  judge  what  the  results  would  have 
been  if  the  last  fifteen  years  of  his  reign  had  been  equally  fortu- 
nate. Had  it  not  been  for  Blenheim,  all  Europe  might  at  this  day 
suffer  under  the  effect  of  French  conquests  resembling  those  of 
Alexander  in  extent,  and  those  of  the  Romans  in  durability. 

When  Louis  XIV.  began  to  govern,  he  found  all  the  materials 
for  a  strong  government  ready  to  his  hand.  Richelieu  had  com- 
pletely tamed  the  turbulent  spirit  of  the  French  nobility,  and  had 
subverted  the  "imperium  in  imperio"  of  the  Huguenots.  The 
faction  of  the  Frondeurs  in  Mazarin's  time  had  had  the  effect  of 
making  the  Parisian  Parliament  utterly  hateful  and  contemptible 
in  the  eyes  of  the  nation.  The  Assemblies  of  the  States-General 
were  obsolete.  The  royal  authority  alone  remained.  The  king 
was  the  state.  Louis  knew  his  position.  He  fearlessly  avowed  it, 
and  he  fearlessly  acted  up  to  it.  * 

Not  only  was  his  government  a  strong  one,  biit  the  country 
which  he  governed  was  strong — strong  in  its  geographical  situation, 
in  the  compactness  of  its  territory,  in  the  number  and  martial 
spirit  of  its  inhabitants,  and  in  their  complete  and  undivided 
nationality.  Louis  had  neither  a  Hungary  nor  an  Ireland  in  his 
dominions.  The  civil  war  in  the  Cevennes  was  caused  solely  by 
his  own  persecuting  intolerance;  and  that  did  not  occur  till  late 
in  his  reign,  when  old  age  made  his  bigotry  more  gloomj',  and 
had  given  fanaticism  the  mastery  over  prudence. 

Like  Napoleon  in  after  times,  Louis  XIV.  saw  clearly  that  the 
great  wants  of  France  were  "ships,  colonies,  and  commerce."  But 
Louis  did  more  than  see  these  wants  ;  by  the  aid  of  his  great  min- 
ister, Colbert,  he  supplied  them.     One  of  the  surest  proofs  of  the 


*  "  Quand  Louis  XIV.  dlt, '  L'Etat.  c'est  moi . '  11  n'y  eut  dans  cette  parole 
nl  enflure,  d1  vantere,  mals  la  simple  euonciatlon  d'ui-  falL."~MicHELET  //i«- 
toire  ilodii-ne,  vol.  11.,  p.  li'6. 


218  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

genius  of  Louis  was  his  skill  in  iinding  out  genius  in  others,  and 
his  promptness  in  calling  it  into  action.  Under  him,  Louvois 
organized,  Turenne,  Conde,  Villars,  and  Berwick  led  the  armies  of 
France,  and  Vauban  fortified  her  frontiers.  Throughout  his 
reign,  French  diplomacy  was  marked  by  skilfulness  and  activity, 
and  also  by  comprehensive  far-sightedness,  such  as  the  represen- 
tatives of  no  other  nation  possessed.  Guizot's  testimony  to  the 
vigor  that  was  displayed  through  every  branch  of  Louis  XIV. 's 
government,  and  to  the  extent  to  which  France  at  present  is  in- 
debted to  him,  is  remarkable.  He  says  that,  "taking  the  public 
services  of  every  kind,  the  finances,  the  departments  of  roads  and 
public  works,  the  military  administration,  and  all  the  establish- 
ments which  belong  to  every  branch  of  administration,  there  is  not 
one  that  will  not  be  found  to  have  had  its  origin,  its  development, 
or  its  greatest  perfection  under  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV."*  And  he 
points  out  to  us  that  "the  government  of  Louis  XIV.  was  the  first 
that  presented  itself  to  the  eyes  of  Europe  as  a  power  acting  upon 
sure  grounds,  which  had  not  to  dispute  its  existence  with  inward 
enemies,  but  was  at  ease  as  to  its  territory  and  its  people,  and 
solely  occupied  with  the  task  of  administering  government  prop- 
erly so  called.  All  the  European  governments  had  been  previously 
thrown  into  incessant  wars,  which  deprived  them  of  all  security 
as  well  as  of  all  leisure,  or  so  pestered  by  internal  parties  or  antag- 
onists that  their  time  was  passed  in  fighting  for  existence.  The 
government  of  Louis  XIV.  was  the  first  to  appear  as  a  busy,  thriv- 
ing administration  of  afiairs,  as  a  power  at  once  definitive  and  pro- 
gressive, which  was  not  afraid  to  innovate,  because  it  could  reckon 
securely  on  the  future.  There  have  been,  in  fact,  very  few  govern- 
ments equally  innovating.  Compare  it  with  a  government  of  the 
same  nature,  the  unmixed  monarchy  of  Philip  II.  in  Spain  ;  it  was 
more  absolute  than  that  of  Louis  XIV.,  and  yet  it  was  less  regular 
and  tranquil.  How  did  Philip  IL  succeed  in  establishing  absolute 
power  in  Spain  ?  By  stifling  all  activity  in  the  country,  opposing 
himself  to  every  species  of  amelioration,  and  rendering  the 
state  of  Spain  completely  stagnant.  The  government  of  Louis 
XIV.,  on  the  contrary,  exhibited  alacrity  for  all  sorts  of  innova- 
tions, and  showed  itself  favorable  to  the  progress  of  letters,  arts, 
wealth — in  short,  of  civilization.  This  was  the  veritable  cause  of 
its  preponderance  in  Europe,  which  arose  to  such  a  pitch,  that  it 
became  the  type  of  a  government  not  only  to  sovereigns,  but  also 
to  nations,  during  the  seventeenth  centurj'." 

While  France  was  thus  strong  and  united  in  herself,  and  ruled 
by  a  martial,  an  ambitious,  and  (with  all  his  faults)  an  enlightened 
and  high-spirited  sovereign,  what  European  power  was  there  fit 
to  cope  with  her  or  keep  her  in  check? 

"  As  to  Germany,  the  ambitious  projects  of  the  German  branch 

*  "  History  of  European  Civilization,"  Lecture  13. 


BATTLE  OF  BLENHEIM.  219 

of  Atistria  had  been  entirely  defeated,  the  peace  of  the  empire  had 
been  restored,  and  almost  a  new  constitution  formed,  or  an  old 
revived,  by  the  treaties  of  Westphalia  ;  nay,  the  imperial  eagle  was 
not  only  fallen,  but  her  icings  ivere  clipped."* 

As  to  Spain,  the  Spanish  branch  of  the  Austrian  house  had  sunk 
equally  low.  Philip  II.  left  his  successors  a  ruined  monarchy. 
He  left  theni  something  worse  ;  he  left  them  his  example  and  his 
principles  of  government,  founded  in  ambition,  in  pride,  in  igno- 
rance, in  bigotry,  and  all  the  pedantry  of  state,  t 

It  is  not,  therefore,  to  be  wonderecl  at.  that  France,  in  the  first 
war  of  Louis  XIV.,  despised  the  opposition  of  both  branches  of  the 
once  predominant  house  of  Austria.  Indeed,  in  Germany,  the 
French  king  acquired  allies  among  the  princes  of  the  empire  against 
the  emperor  himself.  He  had  a  still  stronger  support  in  Austria's 
misgovernment  of  her  own  subjects.  The  words  of  Bolingbroke 
on  this  are  remarkable,  and  some  of  them  sound  as  if  written  within 
the  last  three  years.  Bolingbroke  says,  "It  was  not  merely  the 
want  of  cordial  co-operation  among  the  princes  of  the  empire  that 
disabled  the  emperor  from  acting  with  vigor  in  the  cause  of  his 
family  then,  nor  that  has  rendered  the  house  of  Austria  a  dead 
weight  upon  all  her  allies  ever  since.  Bigotry,  and  its  inseparable 
companion,  cruelty,  as  well  as  the  tyranny  and  avarice  of  the  court 
of  Vienna,  created  in  those  days,  and  has  maintained  in  ours, 
almost  a  perpetual  diversion  of  the  imperial  arms  from  all  effectual 
opposition  to  France.  /  mean  to  speak  of  the  troubles  in  Hungary. 
Whatever  they  became  in  their  progress,  they  were  caused  originally  by 
the  usurpations  and  persecutions  of  the  emperor ;  and  when  the  Hun- 
garians were  called  rebels  first,  they  were  called  so  for  no  other  7-eason 
than  this,  that  they  icould  not  be  slaves.  The  dominion  of  the  emperor 
being  less  supportable  than  that  of  the  Turks,  this  unhappy  people 
opened  a  door  to  the  latter  to  infest  the  empire,  instead  of  making 
their  country  what  it  had  been  before,  a  barrier  against  the  Ottoman 
power.  France  became  a  sure  though  secret  ally  of  the  Turks  as 
well  as  the  Hungarians,  and  has  found  her  account  in  it  by  keeping 
the  emperor  in  perpetual  alarms  on  that  side,  while  she  has  ravaged 
the  empire  and  the  Low  Countries  on  the  other. 'J 

If,  after  having  seen   the  imbecility    of  Germany   and   Sixain 

*  Bolingbroke,  vol.  11.,  p.  3T8.  Lord  BoUngtirokes  ' •  Letters  on  the  Use  ot 
Ill.stX)ry,''  and  Ills  "  sketch  ot  the  History  and  State  of  Europe,"  abound 
with  remarks  on  Louis  XIV.  and  his  contemporaries,  ot  ■«  hieh  the  substance 
13  as  sound  as  the  style  Is  beautiful.  Unfortunately,  like  all  his  other 
works,  they  contain  also  a  large  proportion  ot  sophistry  and  misrepresenta- 
tion. The  best  test  to  use  beioie  we  adopt  any  opinion  or  assertion  of 
Bollngbroko's,  Is  to  consider  whether  In  writing  It  he  was  thinking  either  of 
Sir  Robert  Walpole  or  ot  lievealed  Uellglon.  When  either  of  these  objects 
of  his  hatred  was  before  his  mind,  lie  scrupled  at  no  artifice  or  exaggeration 
thatuilglit  serve  the  purpose  ot  his  malignity.  On  most  other  occasions  he 
may  be  followed  with  advantage,  as  lie  always  may  be  read  with  pleasuiu 

t  BcAlngbroke,  vol.  11..  p.  37b.  J  BoUngbroke,  voL  U.,  p.  397. 


220  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

against  the  France  of  Louis  XIV.,  we  turn  to  the  two  only  remain- 
ing European  powers  of  any  importance  at  that  time,  to  England 
and  to  Holland,  we  find  the  position  of  our  own  country  as  to 
European  politics,  from  1660  to  1688,  most  painful  to  contemiilate  ; 
nor  is  our  external  hi:;tnry  during  the  last  twelve  years  of  tlie 
eighteenth  century  by  any  means  satisfactory  to  national  pride, 
though  it  is  infinitely  less  shameful  than  that  of  the  preceding 
twenty-eight  years.  From  1660  to  1668,  "England,  by  the  return 
of  the  Stuarts,  was  reduced  to  a  nullity."  The  words  are  Michel- 
et's,  *  and,  though  severe,  they  are  just.  They  are,  in  fact,  not 
severe  enough  ;  for  when  England,  under  her  restored  dynastj^  of 
the  Stuarts,  did  not  take  any  part  in  European  ijolitics,  her  con- 
duct, or  rather  her  king's  conduct,  was  almost  invariably  wicked 
and  dishonorable. 

Bolingbroke  rightly  says  that,  previous  to  the  revolution  of 
1688,  during  the  whole  progress  that  Louis  XIV.  made  toward  ac- 
quiring such  exhorbitant  power  as  gave  him  well-grounded  hopes 
of  acquiring  at  last  to  his  family  the  Sjjanish  monarchy,England  had 
been  either  an  idle  si^ectator  of  what  jjassed  on  the  Continent,  or  a 
faint  and  uncertain  ally  against  France,  or  a  warm  and  sure  ally 
on  her  side,  or  a  partial  mediator  between  her  and  the  powers  con- 
federated together  in  their  common  defense.  But  though  the 
coiirt  of  England  submitted  to  abet  the  usiirpations  of  France,  and 
the  King  of  England  stooped  to  be  her  pensioner,  the  crime  was 
not  national.  On  the  contrary,  the  nation  cried  out  loudly  against 
it  even  while  it  was  committing,  f 

Holland  alone,  of  all  the  European  powers,  opposed  from  the 
very  beginning  a  steady  and  uniform  resistance  to  the  ambition 
and  power  of  the  French  king.  It  was  against  Holland  that  the 
fiercest  attacks  of  France  were  made,  and,  though  often  apparently 
on  the  eve  of  complete  success,  they  were  always  ultimately 
bafSed  by  the  stubborn  bravery  of  the  Dutch,  and  the  heroism  of 
their  great  leader,  William  of  Orange.  When  he  became  King  of 
England,  the  power  of  this  country  was  thrown  decidedly  into  the 
scale  against  France  ;  but  though  the  contest  was  thus  rendered 
less  unequal,  though  William  acted  throughout  "with  invincible 
firmness,  like  a  patriot  andahero,"|  France  had  the  general  supe- 
riority in  every  war  and  in  every  treaty  ;  and  the  commencement 
of  the  eighteenth  century  found  the  last  league  against  her  dissolv- 
ed, all  the  forces  of  tbe  confederates  against  her  dispersed,  and 
many  disbanded  ;  while  France  continiied  armed,  with  her  veteran 
forces  by  sea  and  land  increased,  and  held  in  readiness  to  act  on 
all  sides,  whenever  the  oi^portunity  shoiild  arise  for  seizing  on  the 
great  prizes  which,  from  the  very  beginning  of  his  reign,  had 
never  been  lost  sight  of  by  her  king. 

*  "  Eistolre  JiToderne,"  vol.  ll.,  p.  lOG.  t  Bolingbroke,  vol.  ll.,4ia 

t  Ibid,,  p.  404. 


BATTLE  OF  BLENUEIM.  221 

This  is  not  the  place  for  any  narrative  of  the  first  essay  •which 
Louis  XIV.  made  of  his  power  in  the -war  of  1667  ;  of  his  rapid 
conquest  of  Flanders  and  Franehe-Comte  ;  of  the  treaty  of  Aixla 
Chapslle,  which  "was  nothing  more  than  a  composition  between 
the  bully  and  the  bullied  "*  of  his  attack  on  Holland  in  1672  ;  of 
the  districts  and  the  barrier  towns  of  the  Spanish  Netherlands, 
which  were  secured  to  him  by  the  treatj'  of  Nimegiien  in  1678  ;  of 
how,  after  this  treaty,  he  "continued  to  vex  both  Spain  and  the 
empire,  and  to  extend  his  conquests  in  the  Low  Countries  and  ou 
the  Khine,  both  by  the  pen  and  the  sword  ;  how  he  took  Luxem- 
bourg by  force,  stole  Strasburg,  and  bought  Casal  ; "  of  how  the 
league  of  Augsburg  was  formed  against  him  in  1686,  and  the  elec- 
tion of  William  of  Orange  to  the  English  throne  in  1G8S  gave  a  new 
spirit  to  the  opposition  which  France  encountered  ;  of  the  long 
and  checkered  war  that  followed,  in  which  the  French  armies 
were  generally  victorious  on  the  Continent,  though  his  fleet  were 
beaten  at  La  Hogue,  and  his  dependent,  James  II.,  was  defeated 
at  the  Boyne  ;  or  of  the  treaty  of  Eyswick,  which  left  France  in 
possession  of  Eoussillon,  Artois,  and  Strasburg,  which  gave  Europe 
no  security  against  her  claims  on  the  Spanish  succession,  and 
■which  Louis  regarded  as  a  mere  truce,  to  gain  breathing-time  be- 
fore a  more  decisive  struggle.  It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the 
ambition  of  Louis  in  these  wars  was  two-fold.  It  had  its  immediate 
and  its  ulterior  objects.  Its  immediate  object  was  to  conquer  and 
annex  to  France  the  neighboring  provinces  and  towns  that  were 
most  convenient  for  the  increase  of  her  strength ,  but  the  ulterior 
object  of  Louis,  from  the  time  of  his  marriage  to  the  Spanish  In- 
fanta in  1G59,  was  to  acquire  for  the  house  of  Bourbon  the  whole 
emjjire  of  SjJain.  A  formal  renunciation  of  all  right  to  the  Spanish 
succession  had  been  made  at  the  time  of  the  marriage;  but  such 
renunciations  were  never  of  any  practical  effect,  and  many  casu- 
ists and  jurists  of  the  age  even  held  them  to  be  intrinsically  void. 
As  the  time  passed  on,  and  the  prospect  of  Charles  II.  of  Spain 
dying  without  lineal  heirs  became  more  and  more  certain,  so  did 
the  claims  of  the  house  of  Bourbon  to  the  Si:)anish  crown  after  his 
death  become  matters  of  urgent  interest  to  French  ambition  on  the 
one  hand,  and  to  the  other  powers  of  Europe  on  the  other.  At 
length  the  unhappy  King  of  Spain  died.  By  his  will  he  appointed 
Phihp,  duke  of  Anjou,  one  of  Louis  XIV. 's  grandsons,  to  succeed 
him  on  the  throne  of  Sj^ain,  and  strictly  forbade  any  partition  of 
his  dominions.  Louis  well  knew  that  a  general  Euroj^ean  war 
would  follow  if  he  accepted  for  his  house  the  crown  thus  bequeath- 
ed. But  ho  had  been  preparing  for  this  crisis  throughout  his 
reign.  He  sent  his  grandson  into  Spain  as  King  Philip  V.  of  that 
country,  addressing  to  him,  on  his  dej^arture,  the  memorable  words, 
"There  are  no  longer  any  Pyrenees." 

*  Ibid.,  p.  399. 


222  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

The  empire,  which  now  received  the  grandson  of  Louis  aa  its 
king,  comprised  besides  Spain  itself,  the  strongest  part  of  tha 
Netherlands,  Sardinia,  Sicily,  Naples,  the  principality  of  Milan, 
and  other  possessions  in  Italy,  the  Philippines  and  Manilla  Islands 
in  Asia,  and  in  the  New  World,  besides  California  and  Florida, 
the  greatest  part  of  Central  and  of  Southern  America.  Philip  was 
well  received  in  Madrid,  where  he  was  crowned  as  King  Philip  V. 
in  the  beginning  of  1701.  The  distant  portions  of  his  empire  sent 
in  their  adhesion;  and  the  house  of  Bourbon,  either  by  its  French 
or  Spanish  troops,  now  had  occupation  both  of  the  kingdom  of 
Francis  I.,  and  of  the  fairest  and  amplest  portions  of  the  empire 
of  the  great  rival  of  Francis,  Charles  V. 

Loud  was  the  wrath  of  Austria,  whose  princes  were  the  rival 
claimants  of  the  Bourbons  for  the  empire  of  Spain.  The  indigna- 
tion of  our  William  III.,  though  not  equally  loud,  was  far  more 
deep  and  energetic.  -  By  his  exertions,  a  league  against  the  house 
ofBotirbon  was  formed  between  England,  Holland.and  the  Austrian 
emperor,  which  was  subsequently  joined  by  the  kings  of  Portu- 
gal and  Prussia,  by  the  Duke  of  Savoy,  and  by  Denmai'k.  Indeed, 
the  alarm  throughout  Europe  was  now  general  and  urgent.  It 
was  evident  that  Louis  aimed  at  consolidating  France  and  the 
Spanish  dominions  into  one  preponderating  empire.  At  the  mo- 
ment when  Philip  was  departing  to  take  possession  of  Spain,  Louis 
had  issued  letters-patent  in  his  favor  to  the  effect  of  preserving  his 
rights  to  the  throne  of  France.  And  Louis  had  himself  obtained 
possession  of  the  important  frontier  of  the  Spanish  Netherlands 
with  its  numerous  fortified  cities,  which  were  given  up  to  his 
troops  under  pretense  of  securing  them  for  the  young  King  of 
Spain.  Whether  the  formal  union  of  the  two  crowns  was  likely  to 
take  place  speedily  or  not,  it  was  evident  that  the  resources  of  the 
whole  Spanish  monarchy  were  now  virtually  at  the  French  king's 
disposal. 

The  jieril  that  seemed  to  menace  the  empire,  England,  Holland, 
and  the  other  independent  powers  is  well  summed  up  by  Alison. 
"Spain  had  threatened  the  liberties  of  Europe  in  the  end  of  the 
sixteenth  century.  France  had  all  but  overthrown  them  in  the 
close  of  the  seventeenth.  What  hope  was  there  of  there  being  able 
to  make  head  against  them  both,  united  under  such  a  monarch  as 
Louis  XIV.  ?  "* 

Our  knowledge  of  the  decayed  state  into  which  the  Spanish 
power  had  fallen  ought  not  make  us  regard  their  alarms  as  chi- 
merical. Spain  possessed  enormous  resources,  and  her  strength 
was  capable  of  being  regenerated  by  a  vigorous  ruler.  We  should 
remember  what  Alberoni  effected  even  after  the  close  of  the  war  of 
Succession.  By  what  that  minister  did  in  a  few  years,  we  may 
judge   what  Louis  XIV.  would  have  done   in  restoring  the  mari- 

*  "  Military  History  of  the  Dxike  of  Marlborough,"  p.  32. 


BATTLE  OF  BLENHEIM.  223 

time  and  military  power  of  that  great  country,  which  nature  had 
BO  largely  gifted,    and   which  man's  misgovernment  has  so  de- 

The  death  of  King  William,  on  the  8th  of  March,  1702,  at  first 
seemed  likely  to  paralyze  the  leagiie  against  France  ;  "  for,  not- 
withstanding the  ill  success  with  which  he  made  war  generally, 
he  was  looked  ujjon  as  the  sole  center  of  union  that  could  keep 
together  the  great  confederacy  then  forming  ;  and  how  much  the 
French  feared  from  his  life  had  appeared  a  few  years  before,  in  the 
extravagant  and  indecent  joy  they  expressed  on  a  false  report  of 
his  death.  A  short  time  showed  how  vain  the  fears  of  some,  and 
the  hope  of  others  were."*  Queen  Anne,  within  three  days  after 
her  accession,  went  down  to  the  House  of  Lords,  and  there  declared 
her  resolution  to  support  the  measures  planned  by  her  predeces- 
sor, who  had  been  "  the  great  support,  not  only  of  these  kingdoms, 
but  of  all  Europe."  Anne  was  married  to  Prince  George  of  Den- 
mark, and  by  her  accession  to  the  English  throne  the  confederacy 
against  Louis  obtained  the  aid  of  the  troops  of  Denmark  ;  but 
Anne's  strong  attachment  to  one  of  her  female  friends  led  to  far 
more  important  advantages  to  the  anti-Gallican  confederacy  than 
the  acquisition  of  many  armies,  for  it  gave  them  Mablbokouqh  as 
their  captain  general. 

There  are  few  successful  commanders  on  whom  France  has  shone 
so  unwillingly  as  upon  John  Churchill,  duke  of  Marlborough, 
prince  of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire,  victor  of  Blenheim,  Ramillies, 
Oudenarde,  and  Malplaquet,  captor  of  Liege,  Bonn,  Limburg,  Lan- 
dau, Ghent,  Bruges,  Antwerp,  Oudenarde,  Ostend,  Menin,  Den- 
dermonde,  Ath,  Lille,  Tournay,  Mons,  Dounay,  Aire,  Bethune,  and 
Bouchain  ;  who  never  fought  a  battle  that  he  did  not  win,  and 
never  besieged  a  place  that  he  did  not  take.  Marlborough's  own 
character  is  the  cause  of  this.  Military  glory  may,  and  too  often  does, 
dazzle  both  contemporaries  and  posterity,  until  the  crimes  as  well 
as  the  vices  of  heroes  are  forgotten.  But  even  a  few  stains  of  per- 
sonal meanness  will  dim  a  soldier's  reputation  irreparably  ;  and 
Marlborough's  faults  were  of  a  peculiarly  base  and  mean  order. 
Our  feelings  toward  historical  personages  are  in  this  respect  like 
our  feelings  toward  private  acquaintances.  There  are  actions  of 
that  shabby  nature,  that  however  much  they  may  be  outweighed 
by  a  man's  good  deeds  on  a  general  estimate  of  his  character,  we 
never  can  feel  any  cordial  liking  for  the  person  who  has  once  been 
guilty  of  them.  Thus,  with  respect  to  the  Duke  of  Marlborough, 
it  goes  against  our  feelings  to  admire  the  man  who  owed  his  first 
advancement  in  life  to  the  court  favor  which  he  and  his  family 
acquired  through  his  sister  becoming  one  of  the  mistresses  of  the 
Duke  of  York.  It  is  repulsive  to  know  that  Marlborough  laid  the 
foundation  of  his  wealth  by  being  the  jjaid  lover  of  one  of  the  fair 

•  BoUngbroke,  vol.  11.,  445. 


224  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

and  frail  favorites  of  Charles  II.*  His  treachery,  and  his  ingrati- 
tude to  his  patron  and  benefactor,  James  11.,  stand  out  in  dark 
relief,  even  in  that  age  of  thankless  perfidy.  He  was  almost  equally 
disloyal  to  his  new  master.  King  William  ;  and  a  more  itn-Eng- 
lish  act  cannot  be  recorded  than  Godoljjhin's  and  Marlborough's 
betrayal  to  the  French  court  in  1694  of  the  expedition  then  designed 
against  Brest,  a  piece  of  treachery  which  caused  some  hundreds  of 
English  soldiers  and  sailors  to  be  helplessly  slaughtered  on  the 
beach  in  Cameret  Bay. 

It  is,  however,  only  in  his  military  career  that  we  have  now  to 
consider  him;  and  there  are  very  few  generals,  of  either  ancient  or 
modern  times,  whose  campaigns  will  bear  a  comparison  with  those 
of  Marlborough,  either  for  the  masterly  skill  with  which  they  were 
planned,  or  for  the  bold  yet  prudent  energy  with  which  each  plan 
was  carried  into  execution.  Marlborough  had  served  while  young 
under  Turenne,  and  had  obtained  the  marked  praise  of  this  great 
tactician.  It  would  be  difiicult,  indeed,  to  name  a  single  quality 
which  a  general  ought  to  have,  and  with  which  Marlborough  was 
not  eminently  gifted.  What  principally  attracted  the  notice  of 
contemporaries  was  the  imperturbable  evenness  of  his  spirit. 
Voltaire*  says  of  him. 

"He  had,  to  a  degree  above  all  other  generals  of  his  time,  that 
calm  courage  in  the  midst  of  tumiilt,  that  serenity  of  soul  in  dan- 
ger, which  the  English  call  a  cool  head  [que  les  Anglais  appellent 
co!d  head,  tete  fro'ide'],  and  it  was,  perhaps,  this  quality,  the  greatest 
gift  of  nature  for  command,  which  formerly  gave  the  English  so 
many  advantages  over  the  French  in  the  plains  of  Cressy,  Poic- 
tiers,  and  Agincourt." 

King  "William's  knowledge  of  Marlborough's  high  abilities.though 
he  knew  his  faithlessness  equally  well,  is  said  to  have  caused  that 
sovereign  in  his  last  illness  to  recommend  Marlborough  to  his 
successor  as  the  fittest  person  to  command  her  armies  ;  but  Marl- 
borough's favor  with  the  new  queen,  by  means  of  his  wife,  was  so 
high,  that  he  was  certain  of  obtaining  the  highest  employment ; 
and  the  war  against  Louis  opened  to  him  a  glorious  theater  for  the 
display  of  those  military  talents,  which  he  had  previously  only  had 
an  opportunity  of  exercising  in  a  subordinate  character,  and  on  far 
less  conspicuous  scenes. 

He  was  not  only  made  captain  general  of  the  English  forces  at 
home  and  abroad,  but  such  was  the  aiithority  of  England  in  the 
council  of  the  Grand  Alliance,  and  Marlborough  was  so  skilled  in 
winning  golden  opinions  from  all  whom  he  met  with,  that  on  his 
reaching  the  Hague,  he  was  received  with  transports  of  joy  by  the 

*  ]SIarlborougli  might  plead  the  example  of  Sylla  in  this.  Compare  the 
anecdote  lu  PlutarcU  about  Sylla  when  young  and  NlcopoUs,  noivi'ii  hev, 
Evitnpov  8s  yvvaiKoi,  and  the  anecdote  about  Marlborough  and  the 
Duchess  ol  Cleveland,  told  by  Lord  Chesterfield,  and  cited  in  Macaulay's 
'■  History,''  vol.  1.,  p.  461 .  t  •' biecle  de  Louis  Quatoi-ze." 


BATTLE  OF  BLENHEIM.  225 

Dutch,  and  it  was  ngreed  by  the  heads  of  that  republic,  and  the 
minister  of  the  emperor,  that  IMarlborough  should  have  the  chief 
command  of  all  the  allied  armies. 

It  must,  indeed,  in  justice  to  Marlborough,  be  borne  in  mind, 
that  mere  military  skill  was  by  no  means  all  that  was  required  of 
him  in  his  arduous  and  invidious  station.  Had  it  not  been  for  his 
iinrivalled  patience  and  sweetness  of  temper,  and  his  marvelous 
ability  in  discerning  the  character  of  those  whom  he  had  to  act 
with,  his  intiiitive  perception  of  those  who  were  to  be  thoroughly 
trusted,  and  of  those  who  were  to  be  amused  with  the  mere  sem- 
blance of  respect  and  confidence  ;  had  not  Marlborough  possessed 
and  employed,  while  at  the  head  of  the  allied  armies,  all  the  qual- 
ifications ot"  a  polished  courtier  and  a  great  statesman,  he  never 
would  have  led  the  allied  armies  to  the  Danube.  The  confederacy 
would  not  have  held  together  for  a  single  year.  His  greatest 
political  adversary,  Bolmgbroke,  does  him  ample  justice  here. 
Bolingroke,  after  referring  to  the  loss  which  King  William's  death 
seemed  to  inflict  on  the  cause  of  the  allies,  observes  that,  "By  his 
death,  the  Duke  of  Marlborough  was  raised  to  the  head  of  the  army, 
an-l,  indeed,  of  the  confederacy;  where  he,  a  new,  a  private  man,  a 
subject,  acquired  by  merit  and  by  management  a  more  deciding 
influence  than  high  birth,  confirmed  authority,  and  even  the  crown 
of  Great  Britain  had  given  to  King  William.  Not  only  all  the  parts 
of  that  vast  machine,  the  Grand  Alliance,  were  kept  more  compact 
and  entire,  but  a  more  rapid  and  vigorous  motion  was  given  to  the 
whole  ;  and,  instead  of  languishing  and  disastrous  campaigns,  we 
saw  every  scene  of  the  M'ar  full  of  action.  All  those  wherein  he 
appeared,  and  many  of  those  wherein  he  was  not  then  an  actor, 
but  abettor,  however,  of  their  action,  were  crowned  with  the  most 
triumphant  success. 

"I  take  with  pleasure  this  opportunity  of  doing  justice  to  that 
great  man,  whose  faults  I  knew,  whose  virtues  I  admired  ;  and 
whose  memory,  as  the  greatest  general  and  the  greatest  minister 
that  our  country,  or  perhaps  any  other,  has  produced,  I  honor."* 

War  was  formally  declared  by  the  allies  against  France  on  the 
4th  of  May,  1702."'  The  principal  scenes  of  its  ojieration  were, 
at  first,  Flanders,  the  Upper  Ehine,  and  North  Italy.  Marl- 
borough headed  the  allied  troops  in  Flanders  during  the  first  two 
years  of  the  war,  and  took  some  towns  from  the  enemy,  but  noth- 
ing decisive  occurred.  Nor  did  any  actions  of  importance  take 
place  during  this  period  between  the  rival  armies  in  Italy.  But 
in  the  center  of  that  line  from  north  to  south,  from  the  mouth  of 
the  Scheldt  to  the  mouth  of  the  Po.  along  wliich  the  war  was  car- 
ried on,  the  generals  of  Louis  XIV.  acquired  advantages  in  1703 
which  threatened  one  chief  member  of  the  Grand  Alliance  with 
utter  destruction.     France  had  obtained  the  important  assistance 

*  Bollngferoke,  vol.  11 ,  p.  445. 
D.B.-8 


226  DECISIVE  BATILES. 

of  Bavaria  as  her  confederate  in  the  war.  The  elector  of  this  pow- 
erful German  state  made  himself  master  of  tlie  strong  fortress  of 
Ulm,  and  opened  a  communication  with  the  French  armies  on  tho 
Upper  Hhiue.  By  tiiis  junction,  tho  troops  of  Louis  were  enabled 
to  assail  the  emperor  in  tue  very  heart  of  Germany.  In  the  autumn 
of  the  year  1703,  the  combined  armies  of  the  elector  and  French 
ting  completely  defeated  the  Imperialists  in  Bavaria  :  triid  in  the 
following  winter  they  made  themselves  masters  of  the  important 
cities  of  Augsburg  and  Passau.  Meanwhile  the  French  army  of 
the  Upper  lihine  and  Moselle  had  beaten  the  allied  armies  opposed 
to  them,  and  taken  Treves  with  Landau.  At  the  same  tiuie,  the 
discontents  in  Hungary  vith  Austria  again  broke  out  into  open 
insurrection,  so  as  to  distract  the  attention  and  complete  the  terror 
of  the  emjieror  and  his  council  at  Vienna. 

Louis  XIV.  ordered  the  next  campaign  to  be  commenced  by  his 
troops  on  a  scale  of  gi-andeur  and  with  a  boldness  of  enterprise 
such  as  even  Napoleon's  military  schemes  have  seldom  equalled. 
On  the  extreme  left  of  the  line  of  war,  in  the  Netherlands,  the 
French  armies  were  to  act  only  on  the  defensive .  The  fortresses 
in  the  hands  of  the  French  there  were  so  many  and  so  strong,  that 
no  serious  impression  seemed  likely  to  be  made  by  the  allies  on  the 
French  frontier  in  that  qnarter  during  one  campaign,  and  that  one 
cami:)aign  was  to  give  France  such  triumphs  elsewhere  as  would 
(it  was  hoped)  determine  the  war.  Large  detachments  were  there- 
fore to  be  made  from  the  French  force  iu  Flanders,  and  they  were 
to  be  led  by  Marshal  Villeroy  to  the  Moselle  and  Upper  Rhine.  The 
French  army  already  in  the  neighborhood  of  those  rivers  was  to 
march  under  Marshal  Tallard  through  the  Black  Forest  and  join 
the  Elector  of  Bavaria,  and  the  French  troojjs  that  were  already 
with  the  elector  under  Marshal  Marsin.  Meanwhile  the  French 
army  of  Italy  was  to  advance  through  the  Tyrol  into  Austria,  and 
the  whole  forces  were  to  combine  between  the  Danube  and  the  Inn. 
A  strong  body  of  troops  was  to  be  dispatched  into  Hungary,  to 
assist  and  organize  the  insurgents  in  that  kingdom;  and  the  French 
grand  army  of  the  Danube  was  then  in  collected  and  irresistible 
might  to  march  upon  Vienna,  and  dictate  terms  of  peace  to  the 
emperor.  High  military  genius  was  shown  in  the  formation  of 
this  plan,  but  it  was  met  and  baffled  by  a  genius  higher  still. 

Marlborough  had  watched,  with  the  deepest  anxiety,  the  progress 
of  the  French  arms  on  the  Ehine  and  in  Bavaria,  and  be  saw  the 
futility  of  carrying  on  a  war  of  posts  and  sieges  in  Flanders,  while 
death-blows  to  the  emi^ire  were  being  dealt  on  the  Danube. 
He  resolved,  therefore,  to  let  the  war  in  Flanders  languish  for  a 
year,  while  he  moved  with  all  the  disposable  forces  that  he  could 
collect  to  the  central  scenes  of  decisive  operations.  Such  a  march 
was  in  itself  difficult;  but  Marlborough  had,  in  the  first  instance, 
to  overcome  the  still  greater  difficulty  of  obtaining  the  consent  and 
cheerful  co-operation  of  tho  allies,  especially  of  tho  Dutch,  whosa 


BATTLE  Of  BLEXIIEIM.  227 

frontier  it  was  proposed  thus  to  deprive  of  the  larger  part  of  the 
force  which  had  hitherto  been  its  protection:  Fortunately,  among 
the  many  slothful,  the  many  foolish,  the  many  timid,  and  the  not 
few  treacherous  rulers,  statesmen,  and  generals  of  different  nations 
with  whom  he  had  to  deal,  there  were  two  men,  eminent  both  in 
ability  and  integrity,  who  entered  fuUj'  into  Marlborough's  projects, 
and  who,  from  the  stations  which  they  occupied,  were  enabled 
materially  to  forward  them.  One  of  these  was  the  Dutch  statesman 
Heinsius,  who  had  been  the  cordial  supporter  of  King  William, 
and  who  now,  with  equal  zeal  and  good  faith,  supi^orted  Marl- 
borough in  the  councils  of  the  allies;  the  other  was  tiie  celebrated 
general,  Prince  Eugene,  whom  the  Austrian  cabinet  had  recalled 
from  the  Italian  frontier  to  take  the  command  of  one  of  the  emperor's 
armies  in  Germany,  To  these  two  great  men,  and  a  few  more,Marl- 
borough  communicated  his  plan  freely  and  unreservedly;  but  to 
the  general  councils  of  his  allies  h",  only  disclosed  jjart  of  his  dar- 
ing scheme.  He  proposed  to  the  Dutch  that  he  should  march  from 
Flanders  to  the  U^jper  Ehine  and  Moselle  with  the  British  troops 
and  part  of  the  foreign  auxiliaries,  and  commence  vigorous  opera- 
tions against  the  French  armies  in  that  quarter,  while  General 
Auverquerque,  with  the  Dutch  and  the  remainder  of  the  auxiliaries, 
maintained  a  defensive  war  in  the  Netherlands.  Having  with  diffi- 
culty obtained  the  consent  of  the  Dutch  to  this  portion  of  his  pro- 
ject, he  exercised  the  same  diplomatic  zeal,  with  the  same  success, 
in  urging  the  King  of  Prussia  and  other  princes  of  the  empire,  to 
increase  the  number  of  the  troops  which  they  sujiplied,  and  to  post 
them  in  places  convenient  for  his  own  intended  movements. 

Marlborough  commenced  his  celebrated  march  on  the  19th  of 
May.  The  army  which  he  was  to  lead  had  been  assembled  by  his 
brother.  General  Churchill,  at  Bedburg,  not  far  from  Maestricht, 
ontheMeuse:  it  included  sixteen  thousand  English  troops,  and 
consisted  of  fifty-one  battalions  of  foot,  and  ninety -two  squadrons 
of  horse.  Marlborough  was  to  collect  and  join  with  him  on  his 
march  the  troops  of  Prussia,  Luneburg,  and  Hesse,  quartered  on 
the  Rhine,  and  eleven  Dtitch  battalions  that  were  stationed  at  Eoth- 
weil. '  He  had  only  marched  a  single  day,  when  the  series  of  inter- 
ruptions, complaints,  and  requisitions  from  the  other  leaders  of  the 
allies  began, to  which  he  seemed  subjected  throughotit  his  enterprise, 
and  which  would  have  caused  its  failure  in  the  hands  of  any  one  not 
gifted  with  the  firmness  and  the  exquisite  temper  of  Marl- 
borough. One  specimen  of  these  annoyances  rnd  of  Marlborough's 
mode  of  dealing  with  them  may  suffice.  On  his  encamping  at 
Kupen  on  the  20th,  he  recieved  an  express  from  Auverquerque 
pressing  him  to  halt,  because  Villeroy,  who  commanded  the 
French  army  in  Flanders,  had  quitted  the  linrs  which  he  had  been 
occupying,  and  crossed  the  Meuse  at  Namur  with  thirty-six  battal- 

*  Coxe's  "  Life  of  Mailborougli." 


228  *i)ECISIVE  BATTLES. 

ions  and  forty-five  squadrons,  and  was  threatening  the  town  oj 
Huys.  At  the  same  time  Marlborough  received  letters  from  the 
Margrave  of  Baden  and  Count  Wratislaw,  who  commanded  the  Im. 
perialist  forces  at  StoUhofien,  near  the  left  bank  of  the  ILhino, 
stating  that  Tallard  had  made  a  movement  as  if  intending  to  cros.i 
the  liliine,  and  iirging  him  to  hasten  his  march  towards  the  linc^ 
of  Stollhofien.  Marlborough  was  not  diverted  by  these  applica. 
tions  from  the  prosecution  of  his  grand  design.  Conscious  that 
the  army  of  Villeroy  would  be  too  much  reduced  to  undertaka 
otfensive  operations,  by  the  detachments  which  had  already  been 
made  toward  the  Ehine,  and  those  which  must  follow  his  own 
march,  he  halted  only  a  day  to  quiet  the  alarms  of  Auverquerque. 
To  satisfy  also  the  margrave,  he  ordered  the  troops  of  Hompesch 
and  Bulow  to  draw  toward  Philipsburg,  though  with  private  injunc- 
tions not  to  jH-oceed  beyond  a  certain  distance.  He  even  exacted  a 
promise  to  the  same  effect  from  Count  Wratislaw,  who  at  the  junc- 
ture arrived  at  the  camp  toattend  him  during  the  whole  campaign.* 

Marlboroiigh  reached  the  lihine  at  Coblentz,  where  he  crossed  that 
river,  and  then  marched  along  its  left  bank  to  Broiibach  and  Mt  ntz. 
His  march,  though  rapid,  was  admirably  conducted,  so  as  to  save 
the  troops  from  all  unnecessary  fatigue;  ample  supplies  of  provi- 
sions were  ready,  and  the  most  perfect  discipline  was  maintained. 
By  degrees  Marlborough  obtained  more  re-enforcements  from  the 
Dutch  and  the  other  confederates,  and  he  also  was  left  more  at  liberty 
by  them  to  follow  his  own  course.  Indeed  before  even  a  blow  was 
struck,  his  enterprise  had  paralyzed  the  enemy ,  and  had  material- 
ly released  Austria  from  the  pressure  of  the  war.  Villeroy,  with 
his  detachments  from  the  French  Flemish  army,  was  completely 
bewildered  by  Marlborough's  movements;  and,  unable  to  divine 
where  it  was  that  the  English  general  meant  to  strike  his  blow, 
wasted  away  the  early  part  of  the  summer  between  Flanders  and 
the  Moselle  without  effecting  any  thing,  f 

Marshal  Tallard  who  commanded  forty-five  thousand  French  at 
Strasburg,  and  who  had  been  destined  by  Louis  to  march  early  in 
the  year  into  Bavaria,  thought  that  Marlborough's  march  along 
the  Ehine  was  preliminary  to  an  attack  upon  Alsace;  and  the  Mar- 
shal therefore  kept  his  forty-five  thousand  men  back  in  order  to 
protect  France  in  that  quarter.  JTarlborough  skilfully  encouraged 
nis  apprehensions,  by  causing  abridge  to  constructed  across  the 
Ehine  at  Philipsburg,  and  by  making  the  Landgrave  of  Hesse  ad- 
vance his  artillery  at  Manhei'm,  as  if  for  a  siege  at  Landau.  Mean- 
while the  Elector  of  Bavaria  and  Marshal  Marsin,  suspecting  that 
Marlborough's  design  might  be  what  it  really  proved  to  be,  forebode 


t  "  iiarslial  Villeroy,"  says  Voltaire,  "who  had  wished  to  follow  Marl- 
borough on  his  first  marches,  suddenly  lost  sight  cf  him  altogethei',  and  only 
learned  where  he  really  was  on  hearing  of  his  vlctoi-y  at  Donawert."  Sieclii 
de  Louis  XIV. 


BATTLE  OF  BLENHEIM.  229 

to  press  -upon  the  Austrians  opposed  to  them,  or  to  send  troops  intc 
Hungary;  and  they  kept  back  so  as  to  secure  their  couimunications 
with  France.  Thus,  when  Marlborough,  at  the  beginning  of  June, 
left  the  Rhine  and  marched  for  the  Danube,  the  numerous  hostile 
armies  were  uncombined,  and  unable  to  check  him. 

"With  such  skill  and  science  had  this  enterprise  been  concerted, 
that  at  the  very  moment  when  it  assumed  a  specific  direction, 
the  enemy  was  no  longer  enabled  to  render  it  abortive.  As  the 
march  was  now  to  be  bent  toward  the  Danube,  notice  was  given  for 
the  Prussians,  Palatines,  and  Hessians,  who  were  stationed  on  the 
Rhine,  to  order  their  march  so  as  to  join  the  main  body  in  its  prog- 
ress. At  the  same  time,  directions  were  sent  to  accelerate  the 
advance  of  the  Danish  auxiliaries,  who  were  marching  from  the 
Netherlands."* 

Crossing  the  River  Neckar,  Marlborough  marched  in  a  southeast- 
ern direction  to  Mundelshene,  where  he  had  his  lii'st  personal 
interview  with  Prince  Eugene,  who  was  destined  to  be  his  colleague 
on  so  many  glorious  fields.  Thence,  through  a  difficult  and  dan- 
gerous country,  Marlborough  continued  his  march  against  the  Ba- 
varians, whom  he  encountered  on  the  2d  of  July  on  the  heights  of 
the  SchuUenberg,  near  Donauwert.  Marlboroiigh  stormed  their 
intrenched  camii,  crossed  the  Danube,  took  several  strong  places 
in  Bavaria,  and  made  himself  completely  master  of  the  elector's 
dominions,  except  the  fortified  cities  of  Munich  and  Augsburg. 
But  the  elector's  army,  though  defeated  at  Donaiiwert,  was  still 
numerous  and  strong:  and  at  last  Marshal  Tallard,  when  thorough- 
ly apprised  of  the  real  nature  of  Marlborough's  movements,  crossed 
the  Rhine;  and  being  suffered,  through  the  supineness  of  the  Ger- 
man General  at  Stollhofien,  to  march  without  loss  throiigh  the 
Black  Forest,  he  united  his  powerful  army  at  Biberbach,  near  Augs- 
bvirg,  with  that  of  the  elector  and  the  French  troops  under  Marshal 
Marsin,  who  had  previously  been  co-operating  with  the  Bavarians. 

On  the  other  hand,  Marlborough  recrossed  the  Danube,  and  on 
the  llth  of  August  united  his  army  with  the  Imperialist  forces 
under  Prince  Eugene.  The  combined  armies  occupied  a  position 
near  Hochstadt,  a  little  higher  up  the  left  bank  of  the  Danube 
than  Donauwert,  the  scene  of  Marlboroi;gh's  recent  victory,  and 
almost  exactly  on  the  ground  where  Marshal  Villars  and  the 
elector  had  defeated  an  Austrian  army  in  the  preceding  year. 
The  French  marshals  and  the  elector  were  now  in  position  a 
little  farther  to  the  east,  between  Blenheim  and  Lutzingen,  and 
with  tlie  little  stream  of  the  Nebel  between  them  and  the  troops 
of  Marlborough  and  Eugene.  The  Gallo-Bavarian  army  con- 
sisted of  about  sixty  thousand  men,  and  they  had  sixty-one  i^ieces 
cf  artillery.  The  army  of  the  allies  was  about  fifty-six  thousand 
strong  with  fifty-two  guns. 

•  Coxe. 


230  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

Although  the  French  army  of  Italy  had  been  unable  to  pcne* 
trate  into  Ai^stria,  and  although  the  masterly  strategy  of  Marl- 
borough had  hithefto  warded  off  the  destruction  with  which  the 
cause  of  the  allies  seemed  menaced  at  the  beginning  of  the  cam- 
paign, the  peril  was  still  most  serious.  It  was  absolutely  neces- 
sary for  Marlborough  to  attack  the  enemy  before  Villeroy  should 
be  roused  into  action.  There  was  nothing  to  stop  that  general 
and  his  army  from  marching  into  Franconia,  whence  the  allies 
drew  their  principal  supplies;  and  besides  thus  distressing  them, 
he  might,  by  marching  on  and  joining  his  army  to  those  of  Tal- 
lard  and  the  elector,  form  a  mass  which  would  overwhelm  the 
force  under  Marlborough  and  Eugene.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
chances  of  a  battle  seemed  perilous,  and  the  fatal  consequences 
of  a  defeat  were  certain.  The  disadvantage  of  the  allies  in  point 
of  number  was  not  very  great,  but  still  it  was  not  to  be  disregarded ; 
and  the  advantage  which  the  enemy  seemed  to  have  in  the  com- 
position of  their  troops  was  striking.  Tallard  and  Marsin  had 
forty-five  thousand  Frenchmen  under  them,  all  veterans  and  all 
trained  to  act  together;  the  elector's  own  troops  also  were  good 
soldiers.  Marlborougb,  like  Wellington  at  Waterloo,  headed  an 
army,  of  which  the  larger  proportion  consisted  not  of  English,  but 
of  men  of  many  different  nations  and  many  different  languages. 
He  was  also  obliged  to  be  the  assailant  in  the  action,  and  thus  to 
expose  his  troops  to  comparatively  heavj'  loss  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  battle,  while  the  enemy  would  tight  under  the  protec- 
tion of  the  villages  and  lines  which  they  were  actively  engaged  in 
strengthening.  The  consequences  of  a  defeat  of  the  confederated 
army  must  have  broken  up  the  Grand  Alliance,  and  realized  the 
proudest  hopes  of  the  French  king  Mr.  Alison,  in  his  admirable 
military  history  of  the  Duke  of  Marlborough,  has  truly  stated 
the  effects  which  would  have  taken  place  if  France  had  been  suc- 
cessful in  the  war;  and  when  the  position  of  the  confederates  at 
the  time  when  Blenheim  was  fought  is  remembered — when  we 
recollect  the  exhaustion  of  Austria,  the  menacing  insurrection  of 
Hungary,  the  feuds  and  jealoiisies  of  the  German  princes,  the 
strength  and  activity  of  the  Jacobite  party  in  England,  and  the 
imbecility  of  nearly  all  the  Dutch  statesmen  of  the  time,  and  the 
weakness  of  Holland  if  deprived  of  her  allies,  we  may  adopt  his 
words  in  speculating  on  what  would  have  ensued  if  France  had 
been  victorious  in  the  battle,  and  "if  a  power,  animated  by  the 
ambition,  guided  by  the  fanaticism,  and  directed  by  the  ability  of 
that  of  Louis  XIV.,  had  gained  the  ascendency  in  Europe.  Beyond 
all  question,  a  universal  despotic  dominion  would  have  been 
established  over  the  bodies,  a  cruel  si:)iritual  thraldom  over  the 
minds  of  men.  France  and  Spain  ignited  under  Bourbon  princes 
and  in  a  close  family  alliance — the  empire  Charlemagne  with  that 
of  Charles  V. — the  power  which  revoked  the  Edict  of  Nantes  and 
perpetrated  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  with  that  which  ban- 


BATTLE  OF  BLENHEIM.  231 

ishecl  the  Morisooes  and  established  the  Inquisition,  would  have 
proved  irresistible,  and  beyond  example  destructive  to  the  best 
interests  of  mankind.      - 

"The  Protestants  might  have  been  driven,  like  the  pagan  hea- 
thens of  old  by  the  son  of  Pepin,  beyond  the  Elbe ;  the  Stuart  race, 
and  •with  them  Piomish  ascendency,  might  have  been  re-establish- 
ed in  England;  the  fire  lighted  by  Latimer  and  Pidley  might 
have  been  extinguished  in  blood;  and  the  energy  breathed  by 
religious  freedom  into  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  might  have  ex- 
pired. The  destinies  of  the  world  would  have  been  changed. 
Europe,  instead  of  a  variety  of  independent  states,  whose  mutual 
hostility  kept  alive  courage,  while  their  national  rivalry  simu- 
lated talent,  would  have  sunk  into  the  slumber  attendant  on  uni- 
versal dominion.  The  colonial  empire  of  England  would  have 
withered  awaj- and  perished,  as  that  of  S2:)ain  has  dene  in  the  grasp 
of  the  Inquisition.  The  Anglo-Saxon  race  would  have  been  arrest- 
ed in  its  mission  to  overspread  the  earth  and  subdue  it.  The 
centralized  despotism  of  the  lloman  emi^ire  would  have  been  re- 
newed on  Continental  Europe;  the  chains  of  Romish  tyranny, 
and  with  them  the  general  infidelity  of  France  before  the  Revolu- 
tion, would  have  extinguished  or  perverted  thought  in  the  British 
Islands."* 

Marlborough's  words  at  the  council  of  war,  when  a  battle  was 
resolved  on,  are  remarkable,  and  they  deserve  recording.  Wo 
know  them  on  the  aiithority  of  his  chaplain,  Mr.  (afterward  Bishop) 
Hare,  who  accompanied  him  throughout  the  campaign,  and  in 
whose  jotirnal  the  biographers  of  Marlborough  have  found  many 
of  their  best  materials.  Marlboroiigh's  words  to  the  officers  who 
remonstrated  with  him  on  the  seeming  temerity  of  attacking  the 
enemy  in  their  iiosition  were,  "I  know  the  danger,  yet  a  battle 
is  absolutely  necessary,  and  I  rely  on  the  bravery  and  discipline 
of  the  troops,  which  will  make  amends  for  our  disadvantages." 
In  the  evening  orders  were  issued  for  a  general  engagement,  and 
received  by  the  army  with  an  alacrity  which  justified  his  confi- 
dence. 

The  French  and  Bavarians  were  posted  behind  a  little  stream 
called  the  Kebel,  which  runs  almost  from  north  to  south  into  the 
Danube  immediately  in  front  of  the  village  of  Blenheim.  The 
Nebel  flows  along  a  little  valley,  and  the  French  occupied  the 
rising  ground  to  the  west  of  it.  The  village  of  Blenheim  was  the 
extreme  right  of  their  position,  and  the  village  of  Lutzingen,  about 
three  miles  north  of  Blenheim,  formed  their  left.  Beyond  Lutzingen 
are  the  rugged  high  grounds  of  the  Godd  Berg  and  Eich  Berg, 
on  the  skirts  of  which  some  detachments  were  posted,  so  as  to 
secure  the  Gallo-Bavarian  position  from  being  turned  on  the  left 
flank.     The  Danube  secured  their  right  flank;  and  it  was  only  in 

*  Alison's  "  Life  of  Marlborough,"  p.  248. 


232  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

front  that  they  could  be  attacked.  The  villages  of  Blenheim  and 
Lutzingen  had  been  strongly  palisaded  and  intrenched.  Mar- 
shal Tallard,  who  held  the  chief  command,  took  his  station  at 
Blenheim;  the  elector  and  Marshal  Marsin  commanded  on  the 
lelt.  Tallard  garrisoned  Blenheim  with  twenty-six  battalions  of 
French  infantry  and  twelve  squadrons  of  French  cavalry.  Marsin 
and  the  elector  had  twenty-two  battalions  of  infantry  and  thirty- 
six  squadrons  of  cavalry  in  front  of  the  village  of  Lutzingen.  The 
center  was  occupied  by  fourteen  battalions  of  infantry,  including 
the  celebrated  Irish  brigade.  These  were  posted  in  the  little 
hamlet  of  Oberglau,  which  lies  somewhat  nearer  to  Lutzingen  than 
to  Blenheim.  Eighty  squadrons  of  cavalry  and  seven  battalions 
of  foot  were  ranged  between  Oberglau  and  Blenheim,  Thus  the 
French  position  was  very  stong  at  each  extremity,  but  was  com- 
paratively weak  in  the  center.  Tallard  seems  to  have  relied  on 
the  swampy  state  of  the  part  of  the  valley  that  reaches  from  below 
Oberglau  to  Blenheim  for  preventing  any  serious  attack  on  this 
part  of  his  line. 

The  army  of  the  allies  was  formed  into  two  great  divisions,  the 
largest  being  commanded  by  the  duke  in  person,  and  being  des- 
tined to  act  against  Tallard,  while  Prince  Eugene  led  the  other 
division,  which  consisted  chiefly  of  cavalry,  and  was  intended  to 
oppose  the  enemy  under  Marsin  and  the  elector.  As  they  approach- 
ed the  enemy,  Marlborough's  troops  formed  the  left  and  the  center, 
while  Eugene's  formed  the  right  of  the  entire  army.  Early  in  the 
morning  of  the  13th  of  August,  the  allies  left  their  own  camp  and 
marched  toward  the  enemy.  A  thick  haze  covered  the  ground, 
and  it  was  not  until  the  allied  right  and  center  had  advanced 
nearly  within  cannon  shot  of  the  enemy  that  Tallard  was  aware  of 
their  approach.  He  made  his  preparations  with  what  haste  he 
could,  and  about  eight  o'clock  a  heavy  fire  of  artillery  was  opened 
from  the  Frei;ch  right  on  the  advancing  left  wing  of  the  British. 
Marlborough  ordered  up  some  of  his  batteries  to  reply  to  it,  and 
while  the  colamns  that  were  to  form  the  allied  left  and  center 
deployed,  and  took  up  their  proper  stations  in  the  line,  a  warm 
cannonade  was  kept  up  by  the  guns  on  both  sides. 

The  ground  which  Eugene's  columns  had  to  traverse  was  pecu- 
liarly diificult,  especially  for  the  passage  of  the  artillery,  and  it 
was  nearly  mid-day  before  he  could  get  his  troops  into  line 
opposite  to  Lutzingen.  During  this  interval,  Marlboro ugli  order- 
ed divine  service  to  be  performed  by  the  chaplains  at  the  head  of 
each  regiment,  and  then  rode  along  the  lines,  and  found  both  offi- 
cers and  men  in  the  highest  spirits,  and  waiting  impatiently  for 
the  signal  for  the  attack.  At  length  an  aide-de-camp  galloped  up 
i/i-om  the  right  with  the  welcome  news  that  Eugene  was  ready. 
Mai-lborough  instantly  sent  Lord  Cutts,  with  a  strong  brigade  of 
infantry,  to  assault  the  village  of  Blenheim,  while  he  himself 
led    th(3   main   body   down    the  eastward    slope  of  the  vr.Uey  of 


BATTLE  OF  BLENHEIM.  233 

the  Nebel,  and   prepared   to   effect  the   passage   of  the  stream. 

The  assault  on  Blenheim,  though  bravely  made,  was  repulsed 
with  severe  loss;  and  Marlborough,  finding  how  strongly  that  vil- 
lage was  garrisoned,  desisted  from  any  farther  attempts  to  carry  it, 
and  bent  all  his  energies  to  breaking  the  enemj^'s  line  between 
Blenheim  and  Oberglau.  Some  temporary  bridges  had  been  pre- 
pared, and  planks  and  fascines  had  been  collected;  and  by  the 
aid  of  these,  and  a  little  stone  bridge  which  crossed  the  ISiebel, 
near  a  hamlet  called  Unterglau,  that  lay  in  the  center  of  the  val- 
ley, Marlborough  succeeded  in  getting  several  squadrons  across 
the  Nebel,  though  it  was  divided  into  several  branches,  and  the 
ground  between  them  was  soft,  and,  in  places,  little  better  than  a 
mere  marsh.  But  the  French  artillery  was  not  idle.  The  cannon 
balls  plunged  incessantly  among  the  advancing  squadrons  of  the 
allies,  and  bodies  of  French  cavalry  rode  frequently  down  from  the 
western  ridge,  to  charge  them  before  they  had  time  to  form  on  the 
firm  ground.  It  was  only  by  supporting  his  men  by  fresh  troops, 
and  by  bringing  xi^  infantry,  who  checked  the  advance  of  the 
enemy's  horse  by  their  steady  fire,  that  Marlborough  was  able  to 
save  his  army  in  this  quarter  from  a  rei)ulse,  which,  succeeding 
the  failure  of  the  attack  ujDon  Blenheim,  would  probably  have  been 
latal  to  the  allies.  By  degrees,  his  cavalry  struggled  over  the 
blood-stained  streams;  the  infantry  were  also  now  brought  across, 
so  as  to  keep  in  check  the  French  troops  who  held  Blenheim,  and 
who,  when  no  longer  assailed  in  front,  had  begun  to  attack  the 
allies  on  their  left  with  considerable  effect. 

Marlborough  had  thus  at  hibt  succeeded  in  drawing  up  the 
whole  left  wing  of  his  army  beyond  the  Nebel,  and  was  about  to 
press  forward  with  it,  when  he  was  called  away  to  another  jaart  of 
the  field  by  a  disaster  that  had  befallen  his  center.  The  Prince  of 
Holstein  Beck  had,  with  eleven  Hanoverian  battalions,  passed  the 
Nebel  opposite  to  Oberglau,  w-hen  he  was  charged  and  utterly  routed 
by  the  Ijish  brigade  which  held  that  village.  The  Irish  drove  the 
Hanoverians  back  with  Leavy  slaughter,  broke  completely  through 
the  line  of  the  allies,  and  nearly  achieved  a  success  as  brilliant  as 
that  which  tlie  same  brigade  afterward  gained  at  Fontenoy.  But 
at  Blenheim  their  ardor  in  piirsuit  led  them  too  far.  Marlborough 
came  ujj  in  person,  and  dashed  in  upon  the  exposed  flank  of  the 
brigade  with  some  squadrons  of  British  cavalry.  The  Irish  reeled 
back,  and  as  they  strove  to  regain  the  height  of  Uberglau,  their 
column  was  raked  through  and  throiigh  by  the  fire  of  three  bat- 
talions of  the  allies,  which  Marlborough  had  summoned  up  from 
the  reserve.  Marlborough  having  re-established  the  order  and 
communications  of  the  allies  in  this  quarter,  now,  as  he  returned 
to  his  own  left  wing,  sent  to  learn  how  his  colleague  fared  against 
Marsin  and  the  elector,  and  to  inform  Eugene  of  his  own  success. 

Eugene  had  hitherto  not  been  equally  fortunate.  He  had  made 
three  attacks  on  the  enemy  opposed  to  him,  and  had   been  thrice 


234  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

driven  back.  It  was  only  by  liis  o'wn  desiierate  personal  exertions, 
and  the  remarkable  steadiness  of  the  regiments  of  Prussian  in- 
fantry which  were  under  him,  that  he  was  to  save  his  wing  from 
being  totally  defeated.  But  it  was  on  the  southern  part  of  the 
battle-field,  on  the  ground  which  Marlborough  had  won  beyond 
the  Jsebel  with  such  difticulty,  that  the  crisis  of  the  battle  was  to 
be  decided. 

Like  Hannibal,  Marlborough  relied  principally  on  his  cav.nlry 
for  achieving  his  decisive  successes,  and  it  was  by  his  cavalry  that 
Blenheim,  the  greatest  of  his  victories,  was  won.  The  battle  had 
lasted  till  five  in  the  afternoon.  Marlborough  had  now  eight 
thousand  horsemen  drawn  up  in  two  lines,  and  in  the  most  |jer- 
fect  order  for  a  general  iiitack  on  the  enemy's  line  along  the  sxace 
between  Blenheim  and  Obeiglau.  The  infantry  was  drawn  up  in 
battalions  m  their  rear,  so  as  to  support  them  if  repulsed,  and  to 
keep  in  cheek  the  large  masses  of  the  French  that  still  occupied 
the  village  of  Blenheim.  Tallard  now  interlaced  his  squadrons  of 
cavalry  with  battalions  of  infantry  ;  and  Marlborough,  by  a  cor- 
responding movement,  brought  several  regiments  of  infantry,  and 
some  pieces  of  artillery,  to  his  front  line  at  intervals  between  the 
bodies  of  horse.  A  little  after  five,  Marlborough  commenced  the 
decisive  movement,  and  the  allied  cavalry,  strengthened  and  sup- 
ported by  foot  and  guns,  advanced  slowly  from  the  lower  ground 
near  the  Nebel  up  the  slope  to  where  the  French  cavalry,  ten 
thousand  strong,  awaited  ttem.  Cn  riding  over  the  summit  of 
the  acclivity,  the  allies  were  received  with  so  hot  a  tire  from  the 
French  artillery  and  small  arms,  that  at  first  the  cavalry  recoiled, 
but  without  abandoning  the  high  ground.  The  guns  and  the  in- 
fantrj'  which  they  had  brought  with  them  maintained  the  contest 
with  spirit  and  effect.  The  French  fire  seemed  to  slacken.  Marl- 
borough instantly  ordered  a  charge  along  the  line.  The  allied 
cavalry  galloped  forward  at  the  enemy's  squadrons,  and  the  hearts 
of  the  French  horsemen  failed  them.  Discharging  their  carbines 
at  an  idle  distance,  they  wheeled  round  and  spurred  from  the 
field,  leaving  the  nine  infantry  battalions  of  their  comrades  to  be 
ridden  down  by  the  torrent  of  the  allied  cavalry.  The  battle  was 
now  won.  Tallard  and  Marsin,  severed  from  each  other,  thought 
only  of  retreat.  Tallard  drew  up  the  squadrons  of  horse  that  he 
had  left,  in  a  line  extended  toward  Blenheim,  and  sent  orders  to 
the  infantry  in  that  village  to  leave  it  and  join  him  without  delay. 
But,  long  ere  his  orders  could  be  obeyed,  the  conquering  squad- 
rons of  Marlborough  had  wheeled  to  tiie  lelt  and  thundered  down 
on  the  feeble  array  of  the  French  marshal.  Part  of  the  force  which 
Tallard  had  drawn  up  for  this  last  efibrt  was  driven  into  the  Dan- 
ube ;  part  fled  with  their  general  to  the  village  of  Sonderheim, 
where  they  were  s-oon  surrotmded  by  the  victorious  allies,  and 
compelled  to  surrender.  JMeanwhile,  Eugene  had  renewed  his  at- 
tack upon  the  Gallo-Bavarian  left,  and   Marsin,   finding  his  col- 


SYNOPSIS  OF  EVENTS,  ETC.  '235 

league  utterly  routed,  and  liis  OTvn  right  flank  uncovered,  pre- 
pared to  retreat.  He  and  the  elector  succeeded  in  withdrawing  a 
considerable  part  of  their  troops  in  tolerable  order  to  Dillingen  ; 
but  the  large  body  of  French  who  garrisoned  Blenheim  were  left 
exposed  to  certain  destruction,  llarlboroiigh  speedily  occupied 
all  the  outlets  from  the  village  with  his  victorious  troops,  and 
then,  collecting  his  artillery  round  it,  he  commenced  a  cannonade 
that  speedily  would  have  destroyed  Blenheim  itself  and  all  who 
were  in  it.  After  several  gallant  but  unsuccessful  attempts  to  cut 
their  way  through  the  allies,  the  French  in  Blenheim  were  at 
length  compelled  to  surrender  at  discretion  ;  and  twenty-four  bat- 
talions and  twelve  squadrons,  with  all  their  officers,  laid  down 
their  arms,  and  became  the  captives  of  Marlborough. 

"Such,"  says  Voltaire,  "was  the  celebrated  battle  which  the 
French  call  the  battle  of  Hochstet,  the  Germans  Plentheim,  and 
the  English  Blenheim.  The  conquerors  had  about  five  thousand 
killed  and  eight  thousand  wounded,  the  greater  part  being  on  the 
side  of  Prince  Eugene.  The  French  army  was  almost  entirely 
destroyed  :  of  sixty  thoiisand  men,  so  long  victorious,  there  never 
reassembled  more  than  twenty  thousand  effective.  About  twelve 
thousand  killed,  fourteen  thousand  prisoners,  all  the  cannon,  a 
prodigious  niimber  of  colors  and  standards,  all  the  tents  and 
equipages,  the  general  of  the  army,  and  one  thousand  two  hun- 
dred officers  of  mark  in  the  power  of  the  conqueror,  signalized 
that  day  ! " 

Ulm,  Landau,  Treves,  and  Traerbach  surrendered  to  the  allies 
before  the  close  of  the  year.  Bavaria  submitted  to  the  emperor, 
and  the  Hungarians  laid  down  their  arms.  Germany  was  com- 
pletely delivered  from  France,  and  the  military  ascendency  of 
the  arms  of  the  allies  was  completely  established.  Throughout 
the  rest  of  the  war  Lo^is  fought  only  in  defense.  Blenheim  had 
dissipated  forever  his  cnce  proud  visions  of  almost  universal  con- 
quest. 


Synopsis  of    Events   bftween   the   Battlk   of   Blenheim,  a.d. 

1704,    AND    THE    BATlIiE   OF   PULTOWA,    A.D.    1709. 

A.D.  1705.  The  Archduke  Charles  lands  in  Spain  vith  a  small 
English  army  under  Lord  Peterbei-ough,  who  takes  Baroe'cna. 
170G.  Marlboroxigh's  victory  at  Kamiliies. 

1707.  The  English  army  in  Spain  i^s  dofented  at  the  butiU   of 
Almanza. 

1708.  Marlborough's  victory  at  Oudeaaxde. 


236  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

CHAPTER  Xn. 

THE    BATTLE    OF    PULTOWA,  A.D.    1709. 

Droad  Pultowa's  day, 
When  fortune  left  the  royal  Swede, 
Around  a  slaug-htered  army  lay, 

No  more  to  oombat  and  to  bleed. 
The  power  and  fortune  of  the  war 
Had  passed  to  the  triumphant  Czar. 

Byron, 

Napoleon  proplicsiecl,  at  St.  Helena,  that  all  Europe  would  soon 
be  either  Cossack  or  Eepublican.  Three  years  ago,  the  fulfill- 
ment of  the  last  of  these  alternatives  appeared  most  probable. 
But  the  democratic;  movements  of  1848  were  sternly  repressed  in 
1849.  The  absolute  authority  of  a  single  ruler,  and  the  austere 
stillness  of  martial  law,  are  now  paramount  in  the  capitals  of  the 
Continent,  which  lately  owned  no  sovereignty  save  the  will  of  the 
miiltitude,  and  where  that  which  the  Democrat  calls  his  sacred 
right  of  insiirrection  was  so  loudly  asserted  and  so  often  fiercely 
enforced.  Many  causes  have  contributed  to  bring  about  this  re- 
action, biit  the  most  eflectiveand  the  most  permanent  have  been 
Russian  influence  and  Russian  arms,  Russia  is  now  the  avowed 
and  acknowledged  champion  of  monarchy  against  democracy  ;  of 
constituted  authority,  however  acqiiired,  against  revolution  and 
change,  for  whatever  purpose  desired;  of  the  Imperial  supremacy 
of  strong  states  over  their  weaker  neighbors  against  all  claims  fcr 
political  independence  and  all  strivings  for  separate  nationality. 
She  had  crushed  the  heroic  Hungarians  ;  and  Austria,  for  whom 
nominally  she  crushed  them,  is  now  one  of  her  dependents. 
Whether  the  rumors  of  her  being  about  to  engage  in  fresh  enter- 
prises be  well  or  ill  founded,  it  is  certain  that  recent  events  must 
have  fearfully  augmented  the  power  of  the  Muscovite  empire, 
which,  even  jDreviously  had  been  the  object  of  well-founded  anx- 
iety to  all  Western  Eifrope. 

It  was  truly  stated,  eleven  years  ago,  that  "the  acquisitions 
which  Russia  has  made  within  the  [then]  last  sixty-four  years  are 
eqiial  in  extent  and  importance  to  the  whole  empire  she  had  in 
Eurojje  before  that  time;  that  the  acqtiisitions  she  has  made  from 
Sweden  are  greater  than  what  i  emains  of  that  ancient  kingdom  ; 
that  her  acquisitions  from  Poland  are  as  large  as  the  whole  Aus- 
trian empire  ;  that  the  territory  she  has  wrested  from  Turkey  in 
Europe  is  equal  to  the  dominions  of  Priissia,  exclusive  of  her 
Rhenish  provinces ;  and  that  her  acquisitions  from  Turkey  in 
Asia  are  equal  in  extent  to  all  the  smaller  states  of  Germany,  the 
Rhenish  provinces  of  Prussia,  Belgium,  and  Holland  taken  to- 
gether; that  the  country  she  has  conqueredfrom  Persia  is  about  the 
size   of  England  ;  that  her  acquisitions  in  Tai-tary  have  an  erea 


BATTLE  OF  r UL TO WA.  23 7 

equal  to  Turkey'  in  Europe,  Greece,  Italy,  and  Spain.  In  sixt;-- 
four  years  she  has  advanced  her  frontier  eight  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  toward  Vienna,  Berlin,  Dresden,  Munich,  and  Paris ;  she 
has  approached  lour  hundred  and  fifty  miles  nearer  to  Constanti- 
nople ;  she  has  possessed  herself  of  the  ca[>ital  of  Poland,  and  has 
advanced  to  within  a  few  miles  of  the  caj^ital  of  Sweden,  from 
which,  when  Peter  the  First  mounted  the  throne,  her  frontier  was 
iiistant  three  hundred  miles.  Since  that  time  she  has  stretched 
herself  forward  about  one  thousand  miles  toward  India,  and  the 
same  distance  toward  the  cajjital  of  Persia."* 

Such,  at  that  period,  had  been  the  recent  aggrandizement  of 
Eussia  ;  and  the  events  of  the  last  few  years,  by  weakening  and 
disuniting  all  her  European  neighljors,  have  immeasurably  aug- 
mented the  relative  superiority  of  the  Muscovite  empire  over  all 
the  other  Continental  powers. 

With  a  population  exceeding  sixty  millions,  all  implicitly  obej'- 
ing  the  impulse  of  a  single  ruling  mind  ;  with  a  territorial  area  of 
six  millions  and  a  half  of  square  miles  ;  with  a  standing  army 
eight  hundred  thousand  strong  ;  with  powerful  fleets  on  the  Baltic 
and  Black  Seas  ;  with  a  skilful  host  of  diplomatic  agents  planted 
in  every  court  and  among  every  tribe  ;  with  the  contidenca  which 
iinexpected  success  creates,  and  the  sagacity  which  long  experi- 
ence fostei's,  Russia  now  grasps,  with  an  armed  right  hand,  the 
tangled  thread  of  European  politics,  and  issues  her  mandates  as 
the  arbitress  of  the  movements  of  the  age.  Yet  a  century  and  a 
half  have  hardly  elapsed  since  she  was  first  recognized  as  a  mem- 
ber of  the  drama  of  modern  European  history— pi-evious  to  the 
battle  of  Pultowa,  Eussia  played  no  jiart.  Charles  V.  and  his 
his  great  rival,  our  Elizabeth  and  her  adversary  Philip  of  Spain, 
the  Giiises,  Sully,  Richelieu,  Cromwell,  De  "Witt,  William  of  Orange, 
and  the  other  leading  spirits  of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth 
centirries,  thought  no  more  about  the  Muscovite  Czar  than  we  now 
think  about  the  King  of  Timbuctoo.  Even  as  late  as  1735,  Lord 
Bolingbroke,  in  his  admirable  "Letters  of  History,"  speaks  of  the 
history  of  the  Muscovites  as  having  no  relation  to  the  knowledge 
which  a  practical  English  statesman  ought  to  acquire. f  It  may  be 
doubted  whether  a  cabinet  council  often  takes  place  now  in  our 
Foreign  Office  without  Russia  being  uppermost  in  every  English 
statesman's  thoughts. 

But,  though  Russia  remained  thus  long  unheeded  among  her 
snows,  there  iras  a  Northern  power,  the  influence  of  which  was 
acknowledged  in  the  principal  European  quarrels,  and  whose  good 
will  was  sedulously  courted  by  many  of  the  boldest  chiefs  and 
ablest  counselors  of  the  leading  states.    Ihis  was  Sweden;    Swe- 


•  "  Proffress  of  Kussla  In  the  East,"  p.  142. 

t  •'  Bolliigbroke's  Works,  vol.  11,,  p.   3T4.    In  tlie  same  page  he  observes 
•Dw  Sweden  had  olten  turnod  her  arms  southward  with  prodHflous  effect. 


238  DECISIVE  BATTLES.  * 

den,  on  whose  rnins  Russia  has  risen,  bnt  whose  ascendency  over 
her  semi-harbarous  neighbor  was  comiDlete,  until  the  fatal  battle 
that  now  forms  our  subject. 

As  early  as  1542  France  had  sought  the  alliance  of  Sweden  to 
aid  her  iu  her  struggle  against  Charles  V.  And  the  name  of  Gus- 
tavus  Adolphus  is  of  itself  sufficient  to  remind  us  that  in  the  great 
contest  for  religious  liberty,  of  which  Germany  was  for  thirty  years 
the  arena,  it  was  Sweden  that  rescued  the  falling  caiise  of  Protest- 
antism, and  it  was  Sweden  that  principally  dictated  the  remodel- 
ing of  the  European  state-system  at  the  peace  of  Westphalia. 

From  the  proud  pre-eminence  in  which  the  valor  of  the  "Lion 
of  the  North,"  and  of  Torstenston,  Bannier,Wrangel,  and  the  other 
generals  of  Gustavus,  guided  by  the  wisdom  of  Oxenstiern,  had 
placed  Sweden,  the  defeat  of  Charles  XII.  at  Pultowa  hurled  her 
down  at  once  and  forever.  Her  efforts  during  the  wars  of  the 
French  Revolution  to  assume  a  leading  part  in  European  politics 
met  with  instant  discomfiture,  and  almost  provoked  derision.  But 
the  Sweden  whose  scepter  was  bequeathed  to  Christiana,  and 
whose  alliance  Cromwell  vahied  so  highly,  was  a  different  power 
to  the  Sweden  of  the  present  day.  Finland,  Ingria,  Livonia, 
Esthonia,  Carelia,  and  other  districts  east  of  the  Baltic,  then  were 
Swedish  provinces  ;  and  the  possession  of  Pomerania,  llugen,  and 
Bremen,  made  her  an  important  member  of  the  Germanic  empire. 
These  territories  are  now  all  reft  from  her,  and  the  most  valuable 
of  them  form  the  staple  of  her  victorious  rival's  strength.  Could 
she  resume  them— could  the  Sweden  of  16i8  be  reconstructed,  we 
should  have  a  first-class  Scandinavian  state  in  the  North,  well 
qualified  to  maintain  the  balance  of  power,  and  check  the  progress 
of  Russia  ;  whose  power,  indeed,  never  could  have  become  formid- 
able to  Europe  save  by  Sweden  becoming  weak. 

The  decisive  triumph  of  Russia  over  Sweden  at  Pultowa  was 
therefore  all-important  to  the  world,  on  account  of  what  it  over- 
threw as  well  as  for  what  it  established  ;  and  it  is  the  more  deeply 
interesting,  because  it  was  not  merely  the  crisis  of  a  struggle  be- 
tween two  states,  but  it  was  a  trial  of  strength  between  two  great 
races  of  mankind.  We  must  bear  in  mind,  that  while  the  Swedes, 
like  the  English,  the  Dutch,  and  others,  belong  to  the  Germanic, 
race,  the  Russians  are  a  Sclavonic  peoi^le.  Nations  of  Sclavonian 
origin  have  long  occupied  the  greater  part  of  Europe  eastward  of 
the  Vistula,  and  the  populations  also  of  Bohemia,  Croatia,  Servia, 
Dalmatia,  and  other  imjjortant  regions  westward  of  that  river  are 
Sckwonic.  In  the  long  and  varied  conflicts  between  them  and 
the  Germanic  nations  that  adjoin  them,  the  Germanic  race  had, 
before  Pultowa,  almost  always  maintained  a  superiority.  With  the 
single  but  important  exception  of  Poland,  no  Sclavonic  state  had 
made  any  considerable  figure  in  history  before  the  time  when  Peter 
the  Great  won  his  great  victory  over  the  Swedish  king.*     What 

*  The  Hussite  wars  may,  perhaps,  entit'o  Bohemia  to  be  distinguished    y 


^.4  TTLE  OF  P  UL  TO  WA.  239 

Russia  has  done  since  that  time  we  know  and  we  feel.  And  some  of 
the  wisest  and  best  men  of  our  own  age  and  nations,  who  have 
watched  with  deepest  care  the  annals  and  the  destinies  of  human- 
ity, have  believed  that  the  Sclavonic  element  in  the  population  of 
Europe  has  as  yet  only  partially  developed  its  powers  ;  that,  while 
other  races  of  mankind  (,our  own,  the  Germanic,  included)  have 
exhausted  their  creative  energies  and  completed  their  allotted 
achievements,  the  Sclavonic  race  has  yet  a  great  career  to  run  ;  and 
that  the  narrative  of  ScLivonic  ascendency  is  the  remaining  page 
that  will  conclude  the  history  of  the  world.* 

Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  in  thus  regarding  the  i^rimary  tri- 
umph of  liussia  over  Sweden  as  a  victorj'  of  the  Sclavonic  over  the 
Germanic  race,  we  are  dealing  with  matters  of  mere  ethnological 
pedantry,  or  with  themes  of  mere  speculative  curiosity.  The  fact 
that  Kussia  is  a  Sclavonic  empire  is  a  fact  of  immense  practical 
influence  at  the  present  moment.  Half  the  inhabitants  of  the  Aus- 
trian empire  are  Sclavonians.  The  population  of  the  larger  part 
of  Turkey  in  Europe  is  of  the  same  race.  Silesia,  Posen,  aud  other 
parts  of  the  Prussian  dominions  are  principally  Sclavonic.  And 
during  late  years  an  enthusiastic  zeal  for  blending  all  Sclavonians 
into  one  great  united  Sclavonic  empire  has  been  growing  up  in 
these  countries!,  which,  however  we  may  deride  its  principle,  is 
not  the  less  real  and  active,  and  of  which  Russia,  as  the  head  and 
the  cliampion  of  the  Sclavonic  race,  knows  well  how  to  take  her 
advantage.  + 

*  See  Arnold's  "  Lectures  on  Modern  History,'"  p.  36-39. 

t  "  '1  tie  Idea  of  Panslavism  had  a  pui-ely  lilerary  origin.  It  was  started  by 
Kollar,  a  Protestant  clergyman  ol  the  Sclavonic  congregation  at  Pesth,  In 
Hungary  who  wished  to  estahUsh  a  national  literature  by  circulating  all 
works,  written  in  the  various  Sclavonic  dialects,  through  every  country 
where  any  ot  them  are  spoken,  lie  suggested  that  all  the  Sclavonic  literati 
should  become  acquainted  with  the  sister  dialects,  so  that  a  Bohemian,  or 
other  work,  might  be  read  on  the  shores  of  the  Adriatic  as  well  as  on  the 
banks  ot  the  Volga,  or  any  other  place  where  a  Sclavonic  language  was 
spoken ;  by  which  means  an  extensive  literature  might  be  created,  tending 
to  advance  knowledge  In  all  Sclavonic  countries;  and  lie  supported  liis 
arguments  by  observing  that  the  dialects  of  ancient  Greece  differed  from 
each  other  nice  those  of  his  own  languiige,  and  yet  that  they  formed  only 
one  Hellenic  literature.-  The  idea  of  an  iutflU'ctual  union  of  all  thosa 
nations  naturally  led  to  that  of  a  political  one;  and  the  Sclavonians,  seeing 
that  their  numbers  amounttnl  to  about  one-third  part  of  the  whole  popula  • 
tli>n  of  Europe,  and  occupied  more  than  half  its  territory,  began  to  ho 
sensible  that  they  might  claim  for  themselves  a  position  to  which  they  had 
not  hit  herto  aspired. 

"The  opinion  gained  ground;  and  the  question  now  Is,  whether  the 
Sclavonians  can  form  a  nation  Independent  of  Hussla,  or  whether  they 
ought  to  rest  satisiied  in  boin^'  part  of  one  great  race,  with  the  most  power- 
ful member  of  It  as  their  chief.  The  latter,  Inden?!,  is  gainim,'-  gronnd 
among  them:  and  some  Poli.-sare  disposed  to  attribute  their  sulTerlngs  lo 
the  abitrary  will  ol  the  Czar,  without  extending  the  blame  lo  the  Russians 
themselves.  Tltese  begin  to  think  that.  If  Miey  cannot  exist  as  I'oles.  tliB 
best  thing  to  be  done  is  to  re.st  satisfied  with  a  position  in  tlii>  Siiavoiiic 
empire,  and  they  hoiie  that,  when  once  they  give  up  the  idea  of  restoring 
their  coimtry ,  Uiesia  may  grant  some  concessions  to  their  separate  natioually. 


240  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

It  is  a  singular  fact  that  lliissia  owes  her  very  nam^  tt>  o  bcHi>l  C'* 
Swedish  invaders  who  conquered  her  a  thousand  years  ago.  Thay 
were  soon  absorbed  in  the  Sclavonic  poi^ulation,  and  every  traco 
of  the  (Swedish  character  had  disappeared  in  llussia  for  many  cen- 
turies before  her  invasion  by  Charles  XII.  She  was  long  the 
victina  and  the  slave  of  the  Tartars  ;  and  for  many  considerable 
periods  of  years  the  Poles  held  her  in  subjugation.  Indeed,  if 
we  except  the  expeditions  of  some  of  the  early  Kussian  chiefs 
against  Byzantium,  and  the  reign  of  Ivan  Yasilovitch,  the  history 
of  llussia  before  the  time  of  Peter  the  Great  is  one  long  tale  of 
saft'ei'ing  and  degradation. 

But,  whatever  may  have  been  the  amoimt  of  national  injuries 
that  she  sustained  from  Swede,  from  Tartar,  or  from  Pole  in  the 
ages  of  her  weakness,  she  has  certainly  retaliated  ten-fold  during 
the  century  and  a  half  of  her  strength.  Her  rapid  transition  at 
the  commencement  of  that  period  from  being  the  prey  of  every  con- 
queror to  being  the  conqueror  of  all  with  whom  she  comes  into 
contact,  to  being  the  oppressor  instead  of  the  opjjressed,  is  almost 
without  a  parallel  in  the  history  of  nations.  It  was  the  work  of  a 
single  ruler ;  who,  himself  without  education,  promoted  science 
and  literature  among  barbaric  millions ;  who  gave  them  tleets, 
commerce,  arts,  and  arms  ;  who,  at  Pultowa,  taught  them  to  face 
and  beat  the  j^reviously  invincible  Swedes  ;  and  who  made  stub- 
born valor  and  implicit  subordination  from  that  time  forth  the 
distinguishing  characteristics  of  the  Russian  soldiery,  which  had 
before  his  time  been  a  mere  disorderly  and  irresolute  rabble. 

The  career  of  Phillip  of  Macedon  resembles  most  nearly  that  of 
the  great  Muscovite  Czar  ;  but  there  is  this  important  difference, 
that  Philip  had,  while  young,  received  in  Southern  Greece  the  best 
education  in  all  matters  of  peace  and  war  that  the  ablest  philoso- 
phers and  generals  of  the  age  could  bestow.  Peter  was  brought 
up  among  barbarians  and  in  barbaric  ignorance.  He  strove  to 
remedy  this,  when  a  grown  man,  by  leaving  all  the  temptations  to 
idleness  and  sensuality  which  his  court  offered,  and  by  seeking 
instruction  abroad.  He  labored  with  his  own  hands  as  a  common 
artisan  in  Holland  and  England,  that  he  might  return  and  teach 
his  subjects  how  ships,  commerce,  and  civilization  could  be  ac- 
quired. There  is  a  degree  of  heroism  here  superior  to  any  thing 
'that  we  know  of  in  the  Macedonian  king.  But  Phillip's  consoli- 
dation of  the  long-disunited  Macedonian  empire  ;  his  raising  a 
people,  which  he  found  the  scorn  of  their  civilized  Southern  neigh- 
bors, to  be  their  dread  ;  his  organization  of  a  brave  and  well- 
disciplined  army  instead  of  a  disorderly  militia  ;  his  creation  of  a 
maritime  force,  and  his  systematic  skill  in  acquiring  and  impi'ov- 

"  The  same  Idea  has  been  put  forward  by  writers  in  the  Russian  interest; 
great  efforts  are  making  ainonf^  otlier  Sclavonic  people  to  induce  them  to 
loolf  upon  Russia  as  their  future  head,  and  she  has  already  gained  con- 
siderable Influence  over  tlie  Sclavonic  populations  of  Turkey."— M"ilkik= 
ON  e  Dalmaiia.       — 


BA  TTLE  OF  P  UL  TO  WA.  241 

ing  sea  porls  and  arsenals  ;  his  patient  tenacity  of  purpose  nnder 
reverses  ;  his  personal  bravery,  and  even  his  proneness  to  coarse 
amusements  and  pleasures,  all  mark  him  out  as  the  prototype  of 
the  imperial  founder  of  the  Russian  power.  In  justice,  however, 
to  the  ancient  hero,  it  ought  to  be  added,  that  we  find  in  the  his- 
tory of  Philip  no  examples  of  that  savage  cruelty  which  deforms 
so  grievously  the  character  of  Peter  the  Great. 

Tti  considering  the  effects  of  the  overthrow  which  the  Swedish 
arms  sustained  at  Pultowa,  and  in  speculating  on  the  probable 
consequences  that  would  have  followed  if  the  invaders  had  been 
successful,  we  must  not  only  bear  in  mind  the  wretched  state  in 
which  Peter  found  Russia  at  his  accession,  compared  with  her 
present  grandeur,  biit  we  must  also  keep  in  view  the  fact  that,  at 
the  time  when  Pultowa  was  fought,  his  reforms  were  yet  incom- 
I>lete,  and  his  new  institutions  immature.  He  had  broken  up  the 
Old  Russia ;  and  the  New  Russin,  which  he  ultimately  created, 
was  still  in  embryo.  Had  he  been  crixshed  at  Pultowa,  his  im- 
mense labors  would  have  been  buried  with  him,  and  (to  use  the 
words  of  Voltaire)  "the  most  extensive  empire  in  the  world  woiild 
have  relapsed  into  the  chaos  from  which  it  had  been  so  lately 
taken."  It  is  this  fact  that  makes  the  repulse  of  Charles  XII.  the 
critical  point  in  the  fortunes  of  Russia.  The  danger  W'hich  she 
incurred  a  century  afterward  from  her  invasion  by  Napoleon  was 
in  reality  far  less  than  her  peril  when  Charles  attacked  her,  though 
the  French  emperor,  as  a  military  genius,  was  infinitely  superior 
to  the  Swedish  king,  and  led  a  host  against  her,  compared  with 
■which  the  armies  of  Charles  seem  almost  insignificant.  But,  as 
Fouche  well  warned  his  imijerial  masteiv  when  he  vainly  endeav- 
ored to  dissuade  him  from  his  disastrous  expedition  against  the 
empire  of  the  Czars,  the  difference  between  the  Russia  of  1812 
and  the  Russia  of  1709  was  greater  than  the  disparity  between  the 
power  of  Charles  and  the  might  of  Napoleon.  "If  that  heroic 
king,"  said  Fouche,  "had  not,  like  your  imperial  majesty,  half 
Europe  in  arms  to  laack  him,  neither  had  his  o])ponent,  the  Czar 
Peter,  400,000  soldiers  and  50,000  Cossacks."  The  historians  who 
describe  the  state  of  the  Muscovite  empire  when  revolutionary  and 
imperial  France  encountered  it,  narrate  with  truth  and  justice 
how,  "at  the  epoch  of  the  French  Revolution,  this  immense  em- 
pire, comprehending  nearly  half  of  Europe  and  Asia  within  its 
dominions,  inhabited  by  a  patient  and  indomitable  race,  ever 
ready  to  exchange  the  luxury  and  adventure  of  the  South  for  the 
hardships  and  monotony  of  the  North,  was  daily  becoming  more 
formidable  to  the  liberties  of  Europe.  *  *  The  Russian  infan- 
try had  then  long  been  celebrated  for  its  immovable  firmness. 
Her  immense  population,  amounting  then  in  Europe  alons  to 
nearly  tliirty-five  millions,  afi'orded  an  inexhaustible  supply  of 
men.  Her  soldiers,  inured  to  heat  and  cold  from  their  infancy, 
and  actuated  by  a  blind  devotion  to  their  Czar,  united  tbo  .steady 


242  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

valor  of  the  English  to  the  impetrions  energy  of  the  French 
troops."*  So,  also,  we  read  how  the  haughty  aggressions  of  ]>ona- 
parte  "  went  to  excite  a  national  feeling  from  the  banks  of  the 
Borysthenes  to  the  wall  of  China,  and  to  unite  against  him  the 
wild  and  i;ncivilized  inhabitants  of  an  extended  empire,  possessed 
by  a  love  to  their  religion,  their  government,  and  their  country, 
and  having  a  character  of  stern  devotion,  which  he  was  incapable 
of  estimating."!  But  the  Russia  of  1709  had  no  such  forces  to  op- 
pose to  an  assailant.  Her  whole  popiilation  then  was  below  six- 
teen millions  ;  and,  what  is  far  more  important,  this  population 
had  neither  acquired  military  spirit  nor  strong  nationality,  nor 
■was  it  united  in  loyal  attachment  to  its  ruler. 

Peter  had  wisely  abolislied  the  old  regialar  troops  of  the  empire, 
the  Strelitzes  ;  but  the  forces  which  he  had  raisetl  in  their  stead 
on  a  new  and  foreign  plan,  and  iDrincipally  officered  with  foreign- 
ers, had,  before  the  Swedish  invasion,  given  no  i>roof  that  they 
could  be  relied  on.  In  numerous  encounters  with  the  Swedes, 
Peter's  soldiery  had  run  lilie  sheep  before  inferior  numbers.  Great 
discontent,  also,  had  been  excited  among  all  classes  of  the  com- 
munity by  the  arbitrary  changes  which  their  great  emperor  in- 
troduced, many  of  which  clashed  with  the  most  cherished  national 
prejudices  of  his  subjects.  A  career  of  victory  and  prosperity  had 
not  yet  raised  Peter  above  the  reach  of  that  disaffection,  nor  had 
superstitious  obedience  to  the  Ozar  yet  become  the  characteristic 
of  the  Miiscovite  mind.  The  victorious  occuiDation  of  Moscow  by 
Charles  XII.  would  have  quelled  the  Russian  nation  as  affectually, 
as  had  been  the  case  when  Batou  Khan,  and  other  ancient  invad- 
ers, captured  the  capital  of  primitive  Muscovy.  How  little  such 
a  triumph  could  effect  toward  subduing  modern  Russia,  the  fate 
of  Napoleon  demonstrated  at  once  and  forever. 

The  character  of  Charles  XII.  has  been  a  favorite  theme  with 
historians,  moralists,  philosophers,  and  poets.  But  it  is  his  mili- 
tary conduct  during  the  campaign  in  Russia  that  alone  requires 
comment  here.  Napoleon,  in  the  Memoirs  dictated  by  him  at 
St.  Helena,  has  given  us  a  systematic  criticism  on  that,  among 
other  celebrated  campaigns,  his  own  Russian  campaign  included. 
He  labors  hard  to  prove  that  he  himself  observed  all  the  triie 
princiijles  of  offensive  war;  and  probably  his  censures  on  Charles's 
generalship  were  rather  highly  colored,  for  the  sake  of  making 
his  own  military  skill  stand  out  in  more  favorable  relief.  Yet 
after  making  all  allowances,  we  must  admit  the  force  of  Napoleon's 
strictures  on  Charles's  tactics,  and  own  that  his  judgment,  though 
severe,  is  correct,  when  he  pronounces  that  the  Swedish  king,  un- 
like his  great  predecessor  Gustavus,  knew  nothing  of  the  art  of 
war,  and  was  nothing  more  than  a  brave  and  intrejaid  soldier. 
Such,  however,  was  not  the  light  in  which  Charles  was  regarded 

*  Alison.  t  Scott's  "Lile  of  Napoleon." 


£A  TTLE  OF  P  UL  TO  WA.  243 

by  his  contemporaries  at  the  commencement  of  his  Kussian  expe- 
dition. His  numerous  victories,  liis  daring  and  resolute  sjjirit, 
combined  with  the  ancient  renown  of  the  Sv\'edish  arms,  then 
filled  all  Europe  with  admiration  and  anxietj%  As  Johnson  ex- 
presses it,  his  name  was  then  one  at  which  the  world  grew  pale. 
Even  Louis  le  Grand  earnestly  solicited  his  assistance;  and  our 
own  Marlborough,  then  in  the  full  career  of  his  victories,  was 
sjDecially  sent  by  the  English  court  to  the  camp  of  Charles,  to 
propitiate  the  hero  of  the  North  in  favor  of  the  cause  of  the  allies, 
and  to  prevent  the  Swedish  sword  from  being  flung  into  the  scale 
in  the  French  king's  favor.  But  Charles  at  that  time  was  solely 
bent  on  dethroning  the  sovereign  of  Kussia,  as  he  had  already 
dethroned  the  sovereign  of  rolund,  and  all  Europe  fully  believed 
that  he  would  entirely  crush  the  Czar,  and  dictate  conditions  of 
peace  in  the  Kremlin.*  Charles  himself  looked  on  success  as  a 
matter  of  certainty,  and  the  romantic  extravagance  of  his  views 
was  continually  increasing.  "  One  year,  he  thought,  would  suffice 
for  the  conquest  of  Kussia.  The  court  of  Home  was  next  to  feel 
his  vengeance,  as  the  pope  had  dared  to  oppose  the  concession  of 
religious  liberty  to  the  Silesian  Protestants.  No  enterprise  at 
that  time  aj^peared  impossible  to  him.  He  had  even  dispatched 
several  officers  privately  into  Asia  and  Egypt,  to  take  plans  of  the 
towns,  and  examine  into  the  strength  and  resources  of  those 
countries."! 

Napoleon  thus  epitomizes  the  earlier  operations  of  Charles's 
invasion  of  Eiissia  : 

"That  prince  set  out  from  his  camp  at  Aldstadt,  near  Leipsic, 
in  September,  1707,  at  the  head  of  45,000  men,  and  traversed 
Poland;  20,000  men,  under  Count  Lewenhaupt,  disembarked  at 
Riga;  and  15,000  were  in  Finland.  He  was  therefore  in  a  condi- 
tion to  have  brought  together  80,000  of  the  best  troops  in  the 
world.  He  left  10,0(10  men  at  "Warsaw  to  guard  King  Stanislaus, 
and  in  January,  1708,  arrived  at  Grodno,  where  he  wintered.  In 
June,  he  crossed  tlie  forest  of  Minsk,  and  presented  himself  before 
Borisov;  forced  the  llussian  army,  which  occupied  the  left  bank 
of  the  Beresina;  defeated  20,000  Russians  who  were  strongly  in- 
trenched behind  marshes;  i)assed  the  Borysthenes  atMohilov,  and 
vanquished  a  corjjs  of  10,000  Muscovites  near  Smolensk©  on  the 
22d  of  September.  He  was  now  advanced  to  the  confines  of 
Lithuania,  and  was  about  to  enter  Russia  Proper:  the  Czar,  alarm- 
ed at  his  appi'oach,  made  him  proposals  of  peace.  Up  to  this  time 
all  his  movements  were  conformable  to  rule,  and  his  communica- 
tions were  well  seciired.  Ho  was  master  of  Poland  and  liiga,  and 
only  ten  days'  march  distant  from  Moscow;  and  it  is  probable 

*  Voltaire  attests,  from  personal  Inspection  of  tlie  letters  of  several  pul>- 
11c  ministers  to  tlielr  respective  courts,  tliat  such  was  the  general  expecta- 
tion, t  Crlghton's  "  Scandinavia." 


2U  DECISI VE  BA  TTLES. 

that  he  •would  have  reached  that  capital,  had  he  not  quitted  the 
high  road,  thither,  and,  directed  his  steps  toward  the  Ukraine,  in 
order  to  form  a  junction  with  Mazeppa,  who  brought  him  only 
6,U00  men.  By  this  movement,  his  line  of  operations,  beginning  at 
Sweden,  exposed  his  flank  to  Kussia  for  a  distance  of  four  hun- 
dred leagues,  and  he  was  unable  to  protect  it,  or  to  receive  either 
re-enforcements  or  assistance." 

Napoleon  severely  censures  this  neglect  of  one  of  the  great  rules 
of  war.  He  points  out  that  Charles  had  not  organized  his  war, 
like  Hannibal,  on  the  principle  of  relinquishing  all  communica- 
tions with  home,  keeping  all  his  forces  concentrated,  and  creating 
a  base  of  oj^erations  in  the  conquering  country.  Such  had  been 
the  bold  system  Of  the  Carthaginian  general ;  but  Charles  acted  on 
no  such  principle,  inasmuch  as  he  caused  Lewenhaupt,  one  of  his 
generals  who  commanded  a  considerable  detachment,  and  escorted 
a  most  important  convoy,  to  follow  him  at  a  distance  of  twelve 
days'  march.  By  this  dislocation  of  his  forces  he  exposed  Lewen- 
haupt  to  be  overwhelmed  separately  by  the  full  force  of  the  enemy, 
and  deprived  the  troops  under  his  own  command  of  the  aid  which 
that  general's  men  and  stores  might  have  afforded  at  the  very  crisis 
of  the  campaign. 

The  Czar  had  collected- an  army  of  about  100,000  effective  men  ; 
and  though  the  Swedes,  in  the  beginning  of  the  invasion,  were 
successful  in  every  encounter,  the  Bussian  troops  were  gradually 
acquiring  discipline  ;  and  Peter  and  his  officers  were  learning  gen- 
eralship from  their  victors,  as  the  Thebans  of  old  learned  it  from 
the  Spartans.  When  Lewenhaupt,  in  the  October  of  1708,  was 
striving  to  join  Charles  in  the  Ukraine,  the  Czar  suddenly  attacked 
him  near  the  Borysthenes  with  an  overwhelming  force  of  50,000 
Eussians.  Lewenhaupt  fought  bravely  for  three  days,  and  suc- 
ceeded in  cutting  his  way  through  the  enemy  with  about  4,000  of 
his  men  to  where  Charles  awaited  him  near  the  Biver  Desna  ;  but 
upward  of  8,000  Swedes  fell  in  these  battles  ;  Lewenhaupt's  cannon 
and  ammunition  were  abandoned  ;  and  the  whole  of  his  important 
convoy  of  provisions,  on  which  Charles  and  his  half-starved  troops 
were  relying,  fell  into  the  enemy's  hands.  Charles  was  compelled 
to  remain  in  the  Ukraine  during  the  winter  ;  but  in  the  spring  of 
1709  he  moved  forward  toward  Moscow,  and  invested  the  fortified 
town  of  Pultowa,  on  the  Biver  Vorksla  ;  a  place  where  the  Czar 
had  stored  up  large  supplies  of  provisions  and  military  stores,  and 
which  commanded  the  passes  leading  toward  Moscow.  The  pos- 
session of  this  place  would  have  given  Charles  the  means  of  sup- 
plying all  the  wants  of  his  suffering  army,  and  would  also  have 
furnished  him  with  a  secure  base  of  operations  for  his  advance 
against  the  Muscovite  capital.  The  siege  was  therefore  hotly 
pressed  by  the  Swedes  ;  the  garrison  resisted  obstinately  :  and  the 
Czar,  feeling  the  importance  of  saving  the  town,  advanced  in  June 
to  its  relief,  at  the  head  of  an  army  from  fifty  to  sixty  thousand  strong. 


BA  TTLE  OF  PUL TO  WA.  245 

Both  sovereigns  now  prepared  for  the  general  action,  which  each 
saw  to  be  inevitable,  and  which  each  felt  would  be  decisive  of  his 
own  and  of  his  countrj's  destiny.  The  Czar,  by  some  masterly 
Tnaneuvers,  crossed  the  Yorksla,  and  posted  his  army  on  the  same 
fide  of  that  river  with  the  besiegers,  but  a  little  higher  up.  The 
Torksla  falls  into  the  Borysthenes  about  fifteen  leagues  below  Pul- 
towa,  and  the  Czar  arranged  his  forces  in  two  lines,  stretching 
from  one  river  toward  the  other,  so  that  if  the  Swedes  attacked  him 
And  were  repiilsed,  they  would  be  driven  backward  into  the  acute 
angle  formed  by  the  two  streams  at  their  junction.  He  fortified 
these  lines  with  several  redoubts,  lined  with  heavy  artillery  ;  and 
his  troops  both  horse  and  foot,  were  in  the  best  possible  condition, 
and  amply  provided  with  stores  and  ammunition.  Charles's  forces 
were  about  24,000  strong.  But  not  more  than  half  of  these  were 
Swedes  :  so  miich  had  battle,  famine,  fatigue,  and  the  deadly  frosts 
of  Russia  thinned  the  gallant  bands  which  the  Swedish  king  and 
LewenLaupt  had  led  to  the  Ukraine.  The  other  12,000  men, 
under  Charles,  were  Cossacks  and  Wallachians,  who  had  joined 
him  in  the  country.  On  hearing  that  the  Czar  was  about  to  attack 
him,  he  deemed  that  his  dignity  required  that  he  himself  should 
be  the  assailant ;  and,  leading  his  army  out  of  their  intrenched 
lines  before  the  town,  he  advanced  with  them  against  the  Russian 
redoubts. 

He  had  been  sererely  wounded  in  the  foot  in  a  skirmish  a  few 
days  before,  and  was  borne  in  a  litter  along  the  ranks  into  the 
thick  of  the  tight.  Notwithstanding  the  fearful  dis^Darity  of  num- 
bers and  disadvantage  of  position,  the  Swedes  never  showed  their 
ancient  valor  more  noVjly  than  on  that  dreadful  day.  Nor  do  their 
Cossack  and  Wallachian  allies  seem  to  have  been  unworthy  of 
fighting  side  by  side  with  Charles's  veterans.  Two  of  the  Russian 
redoubts  were  actually  entered,  and  the  Swedish  infantry  began  to 
raise  the  cry  of  victory.  But,  on  the  other  side,  neither  general 
nor  soldiers  flinched  in  their  duty.  The  Russian  cannonade  and 
musketry  were  kept  up ;  fresh  masses  of  defenders  were  poured 
into  the  fortifications,  and  at  length  the  exhausted  remnants  of 
the  Swedish  columns  recoiled  from  the  blood-stained  redoubts. 
Then  the  Czar  led  the  infantry  and  cavalry  of  his  first  line  outside 
the  works,  drew  them  up  steadily  and  skilfully,  and  the  action 
was  renewed  along  the  whole  fronts  of  the  two  armies  on  the  open 
ground.  Each  sovereign  exposed  his  life  freely  in  the  world- 
winning  battle,  and  on  each  side  the  troops  fought  obstinately  and 
eagerly  under  their  ruler's  eye.  It  was  not  till  two  hours  from  the 
commencement  of  the  action  that,  overpowered  by  numbers,  the 
hitherto  invincible  Swedes  gave  way.  AH  was  then  hoijcless  dis- 
order and  irreparable  rout.  Driven  downward  to  where  the  rivers 
join,  the  fugitive  Swedes  [Surrendered  to  their  victorious  pursuers, 
or  perished  in  the  waters  of  the  Borysthenes.  Only  a  few  hundreds 
Kwam  that  r'"er  with  their  king  and  the  Cossack  Mazoppa,  and 


246  DECISJYE  BATTLES. 

escapea  into  the  Turkish  territory.     Nearly  10,000  lay  killed  and 
■wounded  in  the  redoubts  and  on  the  field  of  battle. 

In  the  joy  of  his  heart  the  Czar  exclaimed,  when  the  strife  was 
over,  "  That  the  son  of  the  morning  had  fallen  from  heaven,  and 
that  the  foundation  of  St.  Petersburg  at  length  stood  firm."  _  Even 
on  that  battle-field,  near  the  Ukraiue,  the  Kussian  emperor's  first 
thoughts  were  of  conquests  and  aggrandizement  on  the  Baltic. 
The  peace  of  Nystadt,  which  transferred  the  fairest  provinces  of 
Sweden  to  Eussia,  ratified  the  judgment  of  battle  which  was  pro- 
nounced at  Pultowa.  Attacks  on  Turkey  and  Persia  by  Prussia 
commenced  almost  directly  after  that  victory.  And  though  the 
'  Czar  failed  in  his  first  attempts  against  the  sultan,  the  successors 
of  Peter  have,  one  and  all,  carried  on  a  uniformly  aggressive  and 
successive  system  of  pohcy  against  Turkey,  and  against  every  other 
state,  Asiatic  as  well  as  European,  which  has  had  the  misfortune 
oi  having  Eussia  for  a  neighbor. 

Orators  and  authors,  who  have  discussed  the  progress  of  Eussia, 
have  often  alluded  to  the  similitude  between  the  modern  extension 
of  the  Muscovite  empire  and  the  extension  of  the  Eoman  dominions 
in  ancient  times.  But  attention  has  scarcely  been  drawn  to  the 
closeness  of  the  i^arallel  between  conqiiering  Eussia  and  conquer- 
ing Eome,  not  only  in  the  extent  of  conquests,  but  in  the  means 
of  effecting  conquest.  The  history  of  Eome  during  the  century 
and  a  half  which  folloMed  the  close  of  the  second  Punic  war,  and 
during  which  her  largest  acquisitions  of  territory  were  made,  should 
be  minutely  compared  with  the  history  of  Eussia  for  the  last  one 
hundred  and  fifty  years.  The  main  points  of  similitude  can  only 
be  indicated  in  these  pages  ;  but  they  deserve  the  fullest  consider- 
ation. Above  all,  the  sixth  chapter  of  Montesquieu's  great  treatise 
on  Eome,  "De  la  couduite  que  les  Eomains  tinrent  pour  soumettre 
les  peuples,"  should  be  carefully  studied  hy  every  one  who  watches 
the  career  and  policy  of  Eussia.  The  classic  scholar  will_ remem- 
ber the  state-craft  of  the  Eoman  senate,  which  took  care  in  every 
foreign  war  to  appear  in  the  character  of  a  Protector.  Thus  Eome 
protected  the  iEtolians  and  the  Greek  cities  against  Macedon  ; 
she  protected  Bithynia  and  other  small  Asiatic  states  against  the 
Syrian  kings  ;  she  protected  Numidia  against  Carthage  ,  and  in 
numerous  other  instances  assumed  the  same  specious  character. 
■But  "woe  to  the  people  whose  liberty  depends  on  the  continued 
forbearance  of  an  over-mighty  protector."*  Every  state  which 
Eome  protected  was  ultimately  subjugated  and  absorbed  by  her. 
And  Eussia  has  been  the  protector  of  Poland— the  protector  of  the 
Crimea— the  protector  of  Courland— the  protector  of  Georgia, 
Immeritia,  Mingrelia,  the  Tcherkessian  and  Caucasian  tribes,  etc. 
She  has  first  protected,  and  then  appropriated  them  all.  She  pro- 
tects Moldavia  and  Wallachia.     A  few  years  ago  she  became  the 


*  Malkln's  "  History  of  Greece." 


SFNOPSIS  OF  EVENTS,  ETC.  247 

protector  of  Turkey  from  Mehemet  Ali ;  and  since  the  summer  of 
1849,  she  has  made  herself  the  protector  of  Austria. 

When  the  partisans  of  liussia  speak  of  the  disinterestedness  with 
which  she  withdrew  her  protecting  troops  from  Constantinople  and 
from  Hungary,  let  ns  here  also  mark  the  ominous  exactness  of  the 
parallel  between  her  and  Rome.  While  the  ancient  world  j^etcon-  ' 
tained  a  number  of  independent  states,  which  might  have  made  a 
formidable  league  against  Rome  if  she  had  alarmed  them  bj'  openly 
avowing  her  ambitious  schemes,  Rome's  favorite  policy  was  seem- 
ing disinterestedness  and  moderation.  After  her  first  war  against 
Philip,  after  that  against  Antiochus,  and  many  others,  victorious 
Rome  promptly  withdrew  her  troops  from  the  territories  which 
they  occupied.  She  affected  to  employ  her  arms  only  for  the  good 
of  others.  But,  when  the  favorable  moment  came,  she  always 
found  a  pretext  for  marching  her  legions  back  into  each  coveted 
district,  and  making  it  a  Roman  province.  Fear,  not  moderation, 
is  the  only  effective  check  on  the  ambition  of  such  powers  as 
ancient  Rome  and  modern  Russia.  The  amount  of  that  fear  de- 
pends on  the  amount  of  timely  vigilance  and  energy  which  other 
states  choose  to  employ  against  the  common  enemy  of  their  freedom 
and  national  independence. 


Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  Pultowa,  a.d.  1709, 
AND  THE  Defeat  of  Buegoyne  at  Saratoga,  a.d.  1777. 

A.D.  1713.  Treaty  of  Utrecht.  Philip  is  left  by  it  in  possession 
of  the  throne  of  Spain.  But  Naples,  Milan,  the  Spanish  territories 
on  the  Tuscan  coast,  the  Spanish  Netherlands,  and  some  parts  of 
the  French  Netherlands,  are  given  to  Austria.  France  cedes  to 
England  Hudson's  Bay  and  Straits,  the  island  of  St.  Christopher, 
Nova  Scotia,  and  Newfoundland  in  America.  Spain  cedes  to  Eng- 
land Gibraltar  and  Minorca,  which  the  English  had  taken  during 
the  war.  The  King  of  Prussia  and  the  Duke  of  Savoy  both  obtain 
considerable  additions  of  territory  to  their  dominions. 

1715.  Death  of  Queen  Anne.  The  house  of  Hanover  begins  to 
reign  in  England.  A  rebellion  in  favor  of  the  Stuarts  is  put  down. . 
Death  of  Louis  XIV. 

1718.  Cliarles  XII.  killed  at  the  siege  of  Frederickshall, 

1725.  Death  of  Peter  the  Great  of  Russia. 

1740.  Frederic  II.  king  of  Prussia.  He  attacks  the  Austrian 
dominions,  and  conquers  Silesia. 

1742.  War  between  France  and  England. 

1743.  Victory  of  the  English  at  Dettingen. 

1745.  Victory  of  the  French  atFontunoy.  Rebellion  in  Scotland 
in  favor  of  the  house  of  Stuart;  finally  quelled  by  the  battle  of 
CuUoden  in  the  next  year. 


248  DECEIVE  BATTLES. 

■       17-48.  Peace  of  Aix-la-Cbapelle. 

175(5-1 763.  The  Seven  Year's  War,  during  wliicli  Prussia  makes 
an  heroic  resistance  against  the  armies  of  Austria,  Russia,  and 
franca.  England,  under  the  administration  of  the  elder  Pitt 
(afterward  Lord  Chatham),  takes  a  glorious  part  in  the  war  in 
opposition  to  France  and  Spain.  Wolfe  wins  the  battle  of  Quebec, 
[and  the  English  conquer  Canada,  Cape  Breton,  and  St.  John.  Cliva 
begins  his  career  of  conquest  in  India.  Cuba  is  taken  by  the 
English  from  Spain. 

1763.  Treaty  of  Paris  ;  which  leaves  the  power  of  Prussia  in- 
creased, and  its  military  reputation  greatly  exalted. 

"France,  by  the  treaty  of  Paris,  ceded  to  England  Canada  and 
the  island  of  Cape  Bi-eton,  with  the  islands  and  coasts  of  the  gulf 
and  river  of  St.  Lawrence.  The  boundaries  between  the  two 
nations  in  North  America  were  fixed  by  a  line  drawn  along  the 
middle  of  the  Mississippi  from  its  source  to  its  mouth.  All  on  the 
left  or  eastern  bank  of  that  river  was  given  uji  to  England,  except 
the  city  of  New  Orleans,  which  was  reserved  to  France  ;  as  was 
also  the  liberty  of  the  fisheries  on  a  part  of  the  coasts  of  Newfound- 
land and  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence.  The  islands  of  St.  Peter  and 
Miquelon  were  given  them  as  a  shelter  for  their  fishermen,  but 
M-ithoiit  permission  to  raise  fortifications.  The  islands  of  Mar- 
tinico,  Guadaloupe,  Mariegalante,  Desirada,  and  St.  Lucia,  were 
surrendered  to  France;  while  Grenada,  the  Grenadines,  St.  Vin- 
cent, Dominica,  and  Tobago,  were  ceded  to  England.  This  latter 
power  retained  her  conquests  on  the  Senegal,  and  restored  to  France 
the  island  of  Gorea,  on  the  coast  of  Africa.  France  was  put  in 
possession  of  the  forts  and  factories  which  belonged  to  her  in  the 
East  Indies,  on  the  coasts  of  Coromandel,  Orissa,  Malabar,  and 
Bengal,  under  che  restriction  of  keeping  up  no  military  force  in 
Bengal. 

"In  Europe,  France  restored  all  the  conqiiests  she  had  made  in 
Germany,  as  also  the  island  of  Minorca.  England  gave  up  to  her 
Belleisle ,  on  the  coast  of  Brittany  ;  while  Dunkirk  was  kept  in  the 
same  condition  as  had  been  determined  by  the  peace  of  Aix-la- 
Chapelle.  The  island  of  Cuba,  with  the  Havana,  v/ere  restored  to 
the  King  of  Spain,  who,  on  his  part,  ceded  to  England  Florida, 
with  Port  Augustine  and  the  Bay  of  Pensacola.  The  King  of 
Portugal  was  restored  to  the  same  state  in  which  he  had  been 
before  the  war.  The  colony  of  St.  Sacrament  in  America,  which 
the  Spaniards  had  conquered,  was  given  back  to  him. 

"  The  peace  of  Paris,  of  whicli  we  have  just  now  spoken,  was  the 
era  of  England's  greatest  prosperity.  Her  commerce  and  naviga- 
tion extended  over  all  parts  of  the  globe,  and  were  su^Dported  by  a 
naval  force,  so  much  the  more  imposing,  as  it  was  no  longer  coun- 
terbalanced by  the  maritime  power  of  France,  which  had  been 
almost  annihilated  in  the  preceding  war.  The  immense  territories 
■which  that  peace  had  secured  her,  both   in  Africa  and  America 


VICTORY  OF  THE  AMERICANS  AT  SARATOGA.       249 

opened  up  new  channels  for  her  industry  ;  and  what  deserv^es 
J5,pecially  to  be  remarked  is,  that  she  acquired  at  the  same  time 
vast  and  important  possessions  in  the  East  Indies.  * 


CHAPTER  XHL 

TICTOET    OF    THE    AMEKICANS  OYER    BUEGOTKE  AT    SARATOGA,  A.D.   1777. 

Westward  the  course  of  empire  takes  its  way ; 

'Jhe  first  tour  acts  already  past, 
A  flftli  sliall  close  the  drama  with  the  day, 

Time's  noblest  offspking  is  its  last. 

Btsuop  Berkeley. 

Of  the  four  great  powers  that  now  principally  rule  the  political 
destinies  of  the  world ,  France  and  England  are  the  only  two  whose 
influence  can  be  dated  back  beyond  the  last  century  and  a  half. 
The  third  great  power,  Russia,  was  a  feeble  mass  of  barbarism  be- 
fore the  ei^och  of  Peter  the  Great  ;  and  the  Yory  existence  of  the 
fourth  great  jjower,  as  an  independent  nation,  commenced  within 
the  memory  of  living  men.  By  the  fourth  great  power  of  the  world 
I  mean  the'mighty  commonwealth  of  the  Western  Continent,  which 
now  commands  the  admiration  of  mankind.  That  homage  is 
sometimes  reluctantly  given,  and  is  sometimes  accomjvanied  with 
suspicion  and  ill  will.  But  none  can  refuse  it.  All  the  physical 
essentials  for  national  strength  are  undeniably  to  be  found  in  the 
geographical  position  and  amplitude  of  territory  which  the  United 
States  possess  ;  and  their  almost  inexhaustible  tracts  of  fertile  but 
hitherto  untouched  soil,  in  their  stately  forests,  in  their  moun- 
tain chains  and  their  rivers,  their  beds  of  coal,  and  stores  of 
metallic  wealth,  in  their  extensive  sea-board  along  the  waters  of 
two  oceans,  and  in  their  already  numerous  and  rapidly -increasing 
population.  And  when  we  examine  the  character  of  this  popula- 
tion, no  one  can  look  on  thefeailess  ener;:jy,  the  sturdy  determina- 
tion, the  aptitude  for  local  self-government,  the  versatile  alacrity, 
and  the  unresting  spirit  of  enterprise  which  characterize  the  Anglo- 
Americans,  without  feeling  that  here  he  beholds  the  true  elements 
of  progressive  might. 

Three  quarters  of  a  centui-y  have  not  yet  passed  since  the  United 
States  ceased  to  be  mere  dependencies  of  England.  And  even 
if  we  date  their  origin  from  the  period  when  the  first  permanent 
European  settlements  out  of  which  they  grew  were  made  on  the 
western  coast  of  the  North  Atlantic,  the  increase  of  their  strength 
is  unparalleled  either  in  rapidity  or  extent. 

*  Koch's  "  Revolutions  of  Europe." 


250  BECISIVE  BATTLES. 

The  ancient  Roman  boasted,  with  reason,  of  the  growth  of  Rome 
from  humble  beginnings  to  the  greatest  magnitmle  which  the  worlil 
had  then  ever  witnessed.  But  the  citizen  of  the  United  States  is 
still  more  justly  entitled  to  claim  this  jjraise.  In  two  centuries 
and  a  half  his  country  has  aoquii-ed  ampler  dominion  than  the 
Roman  gained  in  ten.  And  even  if  we  credit  the  legend  of  the 
band  of  shepherds  and  outlaws  with  which  Romulus  is  said  to  have 
colonized  the  Seven  Hills,  we  find  not  there  so  small  a  germ  of 
future  greatness  as  we  find  in  the  group  of  a  hundred  and  five  ill- 
chosen  and  disunited  emigrants  who  founded  Jamestown  in  1G07, 
or  in  the  scanty  band  of  Pilgrim  Fathers  who,  a  few  years  later, 
moored  their  bark  on  the  wild  and  rock-bound  coast  of  the  wilder- 
ness that  was  to  become  New  England.  The  power  of  the  United 
States  is  emphatically  the  "imperium  quo  neque  ab  exordio  uUum 
fere  minus,  neque  incrementis  toto  orbe  amplius  humana  potest 
memoria  recordari,"* 

Nothing  is  more  calculated  to  imjjress  the  mind  with  a  sense  of 
the  rapidity  with  which  the  resources  of  the  American  republic 
advance,  than  the  difficulty  which  the  historical  enquirer  finds  in 
ascertaining  their  precise  amount.  If  he  consults  the  most  recent 
works,  and  those  written  by  the  ablest  investigators  of  the  sitbject, 
he  finds  in  them  admiring  comments  on  the  change  which  the  last 
few  years,  before  those  books  were  written,  had  made  ;  but  when 
he  turns  to  apply  the  estimates  in  those  books  to  the  present  mo- 
ment, he  finds  them  wholly  inadequate.  Before  a  book  on  the 
subject  of  the  United  States  has  lost  its  novelty,  those  states  have 
outgrown  the  descriptions  which  it  contains.  The  celebrated  work 
of  the  French  statesman,  De  Tocqueville,  appeared  about  fifteen 
years  ago.  In  the  passage  which  I  am  about  to  quote,  it  will  be 
seen  that  he  predicts  the  constant  increase  of  the  Anglo-American 
power,  but  he  looks  on  the  Rocky  Mountains  as  their  extreme 
western  limit  for  many  years  to  come.  He  had  evidently  no  ex- 
pectation of  himself  seeing  that  power  dominant  along  the  Pacific 
as  well  as  along  the  Atlantic  coast.     He  sa^'sit 

"The  distance  from  Lake  Superior  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  ex- 
tends from  the  47th  to  the  30th  degree  of  latitude,  a  distance  of 
more  than  1200  miles,  as  the  bird  flies.  The  frontier  of  the 
United  States  winds  along  the  whole  of  this  immense  line,  some- 
times falling  within  its  limits,  but  more  frequently  extending  far 
beyond  it  into  the  waste.  It  has  been  calculated  that  the  whites 
advance  every  year  a  mean  distance  of  seventeen  miles  along  this 
vast  boundary.     Obstacles,  such  as  an  unproductive  district,  a 

*  Eutroplus,  lib.  1.,  exordium. 

t  The  oilglnal  Frencli  of  these  passages  will  Le  found  in  the  chapter  on 
"  Queues  sent  les  chances  de  duree  de  rmion  Amerlcalne— Quels  dangers 
la  menacent,"  In  the  tlilrd  volume  of  the  first  part  of  De  iocqueville,  and  in 
the  conclusion  of  the  lirst  part.  They  are  (with  others;  collected  and  trans- 
lated by  Mr.  Alison,  In  lils  "  Essays,''  vol.  lii.,  p.  374. 


VI CTO  nr  OF  the  Americans  a  t  sara  to  ga.    251 

lake,  or  an  Indian  nation  unexpectedly  encountered,  are  some- 
times met  with.  The  advancing  coh;mn  then  halts  for  a  while ; 
its  two  extremities  fall  back  upon  themselves,  and  as  soon  as  they 
ave  reunited,  they  proceed  onward.  This  gradual  and  continuous 
progress  of  the  European  race  toward  the  Kocky  Mountains  has 
the°solemnity  of  a  providential  event;  it  is  like  a  deluge  of  men 
rising  unabatedly,  and  daily  driven  onward  by  the  hand  of  God. 

"Within  this  first  line  of  conquering  settlers  towns  are  built  and 
vast  states  for.nded.  In  1790  there  were  only  a  few  thousand  pio- 
neers sprinkled  along  the  valleys  of  the  Mississippi;  and  at  the 
present  day,  these  valleys  contain  as  many  inhabitants  as  were  to 
be  found  in  the  whole  Union  in  1790.  Their  population  amounts 
to  nearly  four  millions.  The  City  of  "Washington  was  founded  in 
1800,  in  the  very  center  of  the  Union;  but  such  are  the  changes 
which  have  taken  place,  that  it  now  stands  at  one  of  the  ex- 
tremities; and  the  delegates  of  the  most  remote  Western  States 
are  already  obliged  to  perform  a  journey  as  long  as  that  from 
Vienna  to  Paris. 

"It  must  not,  then,  be  imagined  that  the  impulse  of  the  British 
race  in  the  New  World  can  be  arrested .  The  dismemberment  of 
the  Union,  and  the  hostilities  which  might  ensue,  the  abolition  of 
republican  institutions,  and  the  tyrannical  government  which 
might  succeed  it,  may  retard  this  impulse,  but  they  cannot  pre- 
vent it  from  ultimately  fulfilling  the  destinies  to  which  that  race 
is  reserved.  No  power  upon  earth  can  close  upon  the  emigrants 
that  fertile  wilderness,  which  offers  resources  to  all  industry,  and 
a  refuge  from  all  want.  Future  events,  of  whatever  nature  they 
may  be,  will  not  deprive  the  Americans  of  their  climate  or  of  their 
inland  seas,  of  their  great  rivers  or  of  their  exuberant  soil.  Nor 
will  bad  laws,  revolutions  and  anarchy  be  able  to  obliterate  that  love 
of  prosperity  and  that  spirit  of  enterprise  which  seem  to  be  the  dis- 
tinctive characteristics  of  their  race,  or  to  extinguish  that  knowl- 
edge which  guides  them  on  their  way. 

"Thus,  in  the  midst  of  the  uncertain  future,  one  event  at  least 
is  sure.  At  a  period  which  may  be  said  to  be  near  (for  we  are 
speaking  of  the  life  of  a  nation),  the  Anglo-Americans  will  alone 
cover  the  immense  space  contained  betwcL-n  the  Polar  llegions  and 
the  Tropics,  extending  from  the  coast  of  the  Atlantic  to  the  shores 
of  the  Pacific  Ocean ;  the  territory  which  will  probably  be  occu- 
pied by  the  Anglo-Americans  at  some  future  time  may  be  com- 
puted to  equal  three  quarters  of  Europe  in  extent.  The  climate  of 
the  Union  is  upon  the  whole  preferable  to  that  of  Eurojie,  and  its 
natural  advantages  are  not  less  great;  it  is  therefore  evident  that 
its  population  will  at  some  future  time  be  proportionate  to  our 
own.  Europe,  divided  as  it  is  between  so  many  diflerent  nations, 
and  torn  as  it  has  been  by  incessant  wars  and  the  barbarous 
manners  of  the  Middle  Ages,  has.  notwithstanding,  attained  a 
population  of  110  inhabitants  to  the  square  league.     What  cau-so 


252  BECISl  VE  BA  TTLES. 

can  prevent  the  United  States  from  having  as  nnmerons  a  popula- 
tion in  time  V 

"The  time  -will  therefore  come  when  one  hundred  and  fifty- 
millions  of  men  will  be  living  in  North  America,  equal  in  condi- 
tion, the  progeny  of  one  race,  owing  their  origin  to  the  same  cause, 
and  preserving  the  same  civilization,  the  same  language,  the  same 
religion,  the  same  habits,  the  same  manners,  and  imbued  with  the 
same  opinions,  propagated  under  the  same  forms.  The  rest  is  un- 
certain, but  this  is  certain  ;  and  it  is  a  fact  new  to  the  world,  a  fact 
'fraught  with  such  portentous  consequences  as  to  baffle  the  efforts 
even  of  the  imagination." 

Let  us  turn  from  the  French  statesman  writing  in  1835,  to  an 
English  statesman  who  is  justly  regarded  as  the  highest  authority 
in  all  statistical  subjects,  and  who  described  the  United  States 
only  five  years  ago.     Macgregor*  tells  us — 

"The  states  which,  on  the  ratification  of  independence,  formed 
the  American  Republican  Union,  were  thirteen,  viz. : 

"Massachusetts,  New  Hampshire,  Connecticut,  Rhode  Island, 
New  York,  New  Jersey,  Delaware,  Maryland,  Pennsylvania,  Vir- 
ginia, North  Cai'olina,  South  Carolina,  and  Georgia. 

"The  foregoing  thirteen  states  {the  whole  ivhabited  territory  of 
ichich,  icith  the  exception  of  a  few  small  settlements,  was  confined  to  the 
region  extending  between  the  Alleghany  Mountains  and  the  Atlantic) 
were  those  which  existed  at  the  period  when  they  became  an 
acknowledged  separate  and  independent  federal  sovereign  power. 
The  thirteen  stripes  of  the  standard  or  flag  of  the  United  States 
continue  to  represent  the  original  number.  The  stars  have  multi- 
plied to  twenty-six, t  according  as  the  number  of  states  have 
increased. 

' '  The  territory  of  the  thirteen  original  states  of  the  Union, 
including  Maine  and  Vermont,  comprehended  a  siiperficies  of 
371,124  English  square  miles,  that  of  the  whole  United  Kingdom 
of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  120,354;  that  of  France,  including 
Corsica,  214,910;  that  of  the  Austrian  empire,  including  Hungary 
and  all  the  Imperial  states,  257,540  English  square  miles. 

"The  present  siiperficies  of  the  twenty-six  constitutional  states 
of  the  Anglo-American  Union,  and  the  District  of  Columbia,  and 
territories  of  Florida,  include  1,029,025  square  miles;  to  which  if 
we  add  the  Northwest,  or  Wisconsin  Territory,  east  of  the  Missis- 
sippi, and  bound  by  Lake  Superior  on  the  north,  and  Michigan 
on  the  east,  and  occupying  at  least  100,000  square  miles,  and  then 
add  the  great  western  region,  not  yet  well  defined  territories,  but 
at  the  most  limited  calculation  comiDrehending  700,000  square 
miles,  the  whole  unbroken  in  its  vast  length  and  breadth  by  for- 
eign nations,  comprehends  a  portion  of  the  earth's  surface  equal 
to  1,729,025  English,  or  1,296,770  geographical  square  miles." 

*  Macgreg-or's  '•  Coinraei'cial  statistics "'  vol.  iil.,  p.  13. 
t  Fresli  siars  liave  dawned  since  lliis  waji  wilttea. 


VIQTOBY  OF  THE  AMERICANS  AT  SARATOGA.      253 

We  may  add  tliat  tlie  population  of  the  states  when  they  declar- 
ed their  independence  was  about  two  millions  and  a  half ;  it  is 
now  twenty-three  millions. 

I  have  quoted  Macgregor,  not  only  on  account  of  the  clear  and 
full  view  which  ho  gives  of  the  progress  of  America  to  the  date 
when  he  wrote,  biit  because  his  description  may  be  contrasted 
with  what  the  United  States  have  become  even  since  his  book  ap- 
peared. Only  three  years  after  the  time  when  Macgregor  thus 
wrote,  the  American  president  truly  stated  : 

"Within  less  than  four  years  the  annexation  of  Texas  to  the 
Union  has  been  consummated;  all  contiicting  title  to  the  Oregon 
Territory,  south  of  the  49th  degree  of  north  latitude,  adjusted; 
and  New  Mexico  and  Upper  California  have  been  acquired  by 
treaty.  The  area  of  these  several  territories  contains  1,193,061 
square  miles,  or  703,559,010  acres;  while  the  area  of  the  remaining 
twentj'-nine  states,  and  the  territory  not  yet  or::!anized  into  s  ates 
east  of  the  Eocky  Mountains,  contains  2,059,513  square  miles, 
or  1,318,126,058  acres.  These  estimates  show  that  the  territories 
recently  acquired,  and  over  which  our  exclusive  jurisdiction  and 
dominion  have  been  extended,  constitute  a  country  more  than 
half  as  large  as  all  that  which  was  held  by  the  United  States 
before  their  acquisition.  If  Oregon  be  excluded  from  the  esti- 
mate, there  will  still  remain  within  the  limits  of  Texas,  New 
Mexico,  and  California,  851,598  square  miles,  or  545,012,720  acres, 
being  an  addition  equal  to  more  than  one  third  of  all  the  territory 
owned  by  the  United  States  before  their  acquisition,  and,  includ- 
ing Oregon,  nearly  as  great  an  extent  of  territory  as  the  whole  of 
Europe,  Russia  only  excepted.  The  Mlssissijipi,  so  hiielij  ilie frontier 
of  our  country,  is  voio  only  its  center.  With  the  addition  of  the  late 
acquisitions,  the  United  States  are  now  estimated  to  be  nearly  as 
large  as  the  whole  of  Europe.  The  extent  of  the  sea-coast  of  Texas 
on  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  is  upward  of  400  miles;  of  the  coast  of 
Upper  California,  on  the  Pacitic,  of  970  miles;  and  of  Oregon,  in- 
cluding the  Straits  of  Fuca,  of  650  miles;  makiwj  iheichnle  extent  of 
sea-coast  on  the  Pacific,  1620  miles,  and  the  whole  extent  on  both  the 
Pacific  and  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  2,020  miles.  The  length  of  the 
coast  on  the  Atlantic,  from  the  northern  limits  of  the  United 
States,  round  the  Capes  of  Florida  to  the  Sabine  on  the  eastern 
boundary  of  Texas,  is  estimated  to  be  3,100  miles,  so  that  the  ad- 
dition of  sea-coast,  including  Oregon,  is  very  nearly  two-thirds  as 
great  as  all  we  possessed  before;  and,  excluding  Oregon,  is  an 
addition  of  1870  miles,  being  nearly  equal  to  one  half  of  the  extent 
of  coast  which  we  possessed  before  these  acquisitions.  We  have 
now  three  great  maritime  fronts— on  the  Atlantic,  the  Gulf  of  Mex- 
ico, and  the  Pacitic,  making,  in  the  whole,  an  extent  of  sea-coast 
exceeding  5,000  miles.  This  is  the  extent  of  the  sea-coastof  the 
United  States,  not  including  bays,  sounds,  and  small  irregularities 
of  the  main  shore  and  of  the  sea  islands.     If  these  be  included, 


254  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

the  lenfjtli  of  the  shore-line  of  coast,  as  estimated  by  the  superin- 
tendent of  the  Coast  Survey  in  his  report,  would  be  33,063  miles." 

The  importance  of  the  power  of  the  United  States  being  then 
firmly  planted  along  the  Pacific  applies  not  only  to  the  New 
World,  but  to  the  Old.  Opposite  to  San  Francisco,  on  the  coast 
of  that  ocean,  lie  the  wealthy  bvit  decrepit  eiujjires  of  China  and 
Japan.  Numerous  groups  of  islets  stud  the  larger  part  of  the  in- 
tervening sea,  and  form  convenient  stepping-stones  for  the  prog- 
ress of  commerce  or  ambition.  The  intercourse  of  traffic  between 
these  ancient  Asiatic  monarchies  and  the  young  Anglo-American 
republic  must  be  rapid  and  extensive.  Any  attem^Dt  of  the  Chi- 
nese or  Japanese  rukn'S  to  check  it  will  only  accelerate  an  armed 
collision.  The  American  will  either  buy  or  force  his  Avay.  Be- 
tween such  populations  as- that  of  China  and  Japan  on  the  one 
side,  and  that  of  the  United  States  on  the  other — the  former 
haughty,  formal,  and  insolent  ;  the  Ititter  bold,  intrusive,  and  un- 
scrupulous—causes of  quarrel  must  sooner  or  later  arise.  The  re- 
sults of  such  a  qiiarrel  cannot  be  doubted.  America  will  scarcely 
imitate  the  foi-bearance  shown  by  England  at  the  end  of  our  late 
war  with  the  Celestial  Empire  ;  and  the  conquests  of  China  and 
Japan,  by  the  fleets  and  armies  of  the  United  States,  are  events 
which  m:iny  now  living  are  likely  to  witness.  Compared  with  the 
magnitude  of  such  changes  in  the  dominion  of  the  Old  World,  the 
certain  ascendency  of  the  Anglo-Americans  over  Central  and 
Southern  America  seems  a  matter  of  secondary  importance.  Well 
may  we  repeat  De  Tocqueville's  words,  that  the  growing  power  of 
this  commonwealth  is  "un  fait  entierement  nouveau  dans  le 
monde,  et  dont  I'imagination  elle-memene  sauraitsaisirlaportee." 

An  Englishman  may  look,  and  ought  to  look,  on  the  growing 
grandeur  of  the  Americans  with  no  small  degree  of  generous  sym- 
pathy and  satisfaction.  They,  like  ourselves,  are  members  of  the 
great  Anglo-Saxon  nation,  "whose  race  and  language  are  now 
overrunning  the  world  from  one  end  of  it  to  the  other."*  And 
whatever  diS'erences  of  form  of  government  may  exist  between  us 
and  them — whatever  reminiscences  of  the  days  when,  though 
brethren,  we  strove  together,  may  rankle  in  the  minds  of  us,  the 
defeated  party,  we  should  cherish  the  bonds  of  common  national- 
ity that  still  exist  between  us.  We  should  remember,  as  the  Athe- 
nians remembered  of  the  Spartans  at  a  season  of  jealousy  and 
temptation,  that  our  race  is  one,  being  of  the  same  blood,  speak- 
ing the  same  language,  having  an  essential  resemblance  in  our  in- 
stitutions and  usages,  and  worshipping  in  the  temples  of  the  same 
God.f  All  this  may  and  should  be  borne  in  mind.  And  yet  an 
Englishman  can  hardly  watch  the  progress  of  America  without 

*  Arnold. 

t  Eov  uiiai^ov  rs  nal  uuuyXoo66ov,  xal  Oegov  iSpv/naroc  re 
xoivd  Hal  ^voiai,  oOecx  ze  ojiiorpoTta. — Hebodoxcs,  vixi,,  144 


VICTORY  OF  THE  AJIERICAKS  AT  SABATOGA.       255 

the  regretful  thought  that  America  once  was  English,  and  that, 
but  for  the  folly  of  our  rulers,  she  might  be  English  still.  It  is 
true  that  the  commerce  between  the  two  countries  has  largely  and 
beneficially  increased,  but  this  is  no  proof  that  the  increase  would 
not  have  been  still  greater  had  the  states  remained  integral  por- 
tions of  the  same  great  empire.  By  giving  a  fair  and  just  partici- 
pation in  political  rights,  these,  "the  fairest  possessions"  of  the 
British  crown,  might  have  been  preserved  to  it.  "This  ancient 
and  most  noble  monarchy  "*  would  not  have  been  dismembered  ; 
nor  should  we  see  that  which  ought  to  be  the  right  arm  of  our 
strength,  now  menacing  us  in  every  political  crisis  as  the  most 
formidable  rival  of  our  commercial  and  maritime  ascendency. 

The  war  which  rent  away  the  North  American  coloniis  from 
England  is,  of  all  subjects  in  history,  the  most  painful  for  an  Eng- 
lishman to  dwell  on.  It  was  commenced  and  carried  on  by  the 
British  ministry  in  iniqiiity  and  folly,  and  it  was  concluded  in 
disaster  and  shame.  But  the  contemplation  of  it  cannot  be  evaded 
by  the  historian,  however  much  it  may  be  abhorred.  Nor  can 
any  military  event  be  said  to  have  exercised  more  important  in- 
fluence on  the  future  fortunes  of  mankind  than  the  complete  de- 
feat of  Burgoyne's  expedition  in  1777  ;  a  defeat  which  rescued  the 
revolted  colonists  from  certain  subjection,  and  which,  by  induc- 
ing the  courts  of  France  and  Spain  to  attack  England  in  their  be- 
half, inst;red  the  independence  of  the  United  States,  and  the  for- 
mation of  that  transatlantic  power  which  not  only  America,  but 
both  Europe  and  Asia  now  see  and  feel. 

Still,  in  proceeding  to  describe  this  "  decisive  battle  of  the 
world,"  a  very  brief  recapitulation  of  the  earlier  events  of  the 
war  may  be  sufficient  ;  nor  shall  I  linger  unnecessarily  on  a  pain- 
ful theme. 

The  five  northern  colonies  of  Massachusetts,  Connecticut 
Rhode  Island,  New  Hampshire,  and  Vermont,  usually  classed  to- 
gether as  the  New  England  colonies,  were  the  strongholds  of  the 
insurrection  against  the  mother  country.  The  feeling  of  resistance 
was  less  vehement  and  general  in  the  central  settlement  of  New 
York,  and  still  less  so  in  Pennsylvania,  Maryland,  and  the  other 
colonies  of  the  South,  although  every  where  it  was  formidably 
strong.  But  it  was  among  thtT  descendants  of  the  stern  Puritans 
that  the  spirit  of  Cromwell  and  Vane  breathed  in  all  its  fervor  ;  it 
was  from  the  New  Englanders  that  the  first  armed  opposition  to 
the  British  crown  had  been  offered  ;  and  it  was  by  them  that  the 
most  stubborn  determination  to  fight  to  the  last,  rather  than  waive 
a  single  right  or  privilege,  had  been  displayed.  In  1775  they 
had  succeeded  in  forcing  the  British  troops  to  evacuate  Boston  ; 
and  the  events  of  1777  had  made  New  York  (which  the  Eoyalists 
captured  in  thtit  year)  the  principal  basis  of  operations  for  the 
armies  of  the  mother  country. 

*  Lord  Cliatliam. 


256  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

A  glance  at  the  map  ■u'ill  sliow  that  the  Hudson  Eiver,  wliicli 
falls  into  the  Atlantic  at  New  York,  runs  down  from  the  north  at 
the  back  of  the  New  England  States,  forming  an  angle  of  about 
forty-five  degrees  with  the  lino  of  the  coast  of  the  Atlantic,  along 
which  the  New  England  States  are  situate.  Northward  of  the 
Hudson  we  see  a  small  chain  of  lakes  communicating  with  the 
Canadian  frontier.  It  is  n^^cessary  to  attend  closely  to  these  geo- 
graphical i^oints,  in  order  to  understand  the  plan  of  the  opera- 
tions which  the  English  attemx^ted  in  1777,  and  which  the  battle 
of  Saratoga  defeated. 

The  English  had  a  considerable  force  in  Canada,  and  in  1776 
had  completely  repulsed  an  attack  which  the  Americans  had 
made  upon  that  province.  The  British  ministry  resolved  to  avail 
themselves,  in  the  next  year,  of  the  advantage  which  the  occupa- 
tion of  Canada  gave  them,  not  merely  for  the  purpose  of  defense, 
but  for  the  purpose  of  striking  a  vigorous  and  crushing  blow 
against  the  revolted  colonies.  With  this  view  the  army  in  Canada 
was  largely  re-enforced.  Seven  thousand  veteran  troops  were  sent 
out  from  England,  with  a  corps  of  artillery  abundantly  supplied 
and  led  by  select  and  experienced  officers.  Large  quantities  of 
military  stores  were  also  furnished  for  the  equipment  of  the  Cana- 
dian volunteers,  who  were  expected  to  join  the  expedition.  It 
was  intended  that  the  force  thus  collected  should  march  south- 
ward by  the  line  of  the  lakes,  and  thence  along  the  banks  of  the 
Hudson  Eiver.  The  British  army  from  New  York  (or  a  large  de- 
tachment of  it)  was  to  make  a  simultaneous  movement  northward, 
up  the  line  of  the  Hudson,  and  the  two  expeditions  were  to  unite 
at  Albany,  a  town  on  that  nver.  By  these  operations, all  communi- 
cation between  the  northern  colonies  and  those  of  the  center 
and  south  would  be  cut  off.  An  irresistible  force  would  be  con- 
centrated, so  as  to  crush  all  further  oj^position  in  New  England  : 
and  when  this  was  done,  it  was  believed  that  the  other  colonies 
would  speedily  submit.  The  Americans  had  no  troops  in  the 
field  that  seemed  able  to  baffle  these  movements.  Their  principal 
army,  under  Washington,  was  occupied  in  watching  over  Penn- 
sylvania and  the  South.  At  any  rate,  itwas  believed  that,  in  order 
to  oppose  the  plan  intended  for  the  new  campaign,  the  insurgents 
must  risk  a  pitched  battle,  in  which  the  superiority  of  the  Koyal- 
ists,  in  numbers,  in  discipline,  and  in  equipment,  seemed  to 
promise  to  the  latter  a  crowning  victory.  Without  question,  the 
plan  was  ably  formed  ;  and  had  the  success  of  the  execution  been 
equal  to  the  ingenuity  of  the  design,  the  reconquest  or  submission 
of  the  thirteen  United  States  must  in  all  human  probability  have 
folio-wed,  and  the  independence  which  they  proclaimed  in  1776 
would  have  been  extinguished  before  it  existed  a  second  year.  No 
European  power  had  as  yet  come  forward  to  aid  America.  It  is 
true  that  England  was  generally  regarded  with  jealousy  and  ill 
will,  and  was  thought  to  have  acquired,  at  the  treaty  of  Paris  !\ 


VICTORY  OF  THE  AMERICANS  AT  SARATOGA.      257 

preponderance  of  dominion  which  was  perilous  to  the  balance  of 
power  ;  but,  though  many  were  -udlling  to  wound,  none  had  yet 
ventured  to  strike ;  and  America,  if  defeated  in  1777,  would  have 
been  suffered  to  fall  unaided. 

Burgoyne  had  gained  celebrity  by  some  bold  and  dashing  ex- 
ploits in  Portugal  during  the  last  war;  he  was  personally  as  brave 
an  officer  as  ever  headed  British  troops;  he  had  considerable  skill 
as  a  tactitian;  and  his  general  intellectual  abilities  and  acquire- 
ments were  of  a  high  order.  He  had  several  very  able  and  ex- 
perienced officers  under  him,  among  whom  were  Major  General 
Philips  and  Brigadier  General  Frazer.  His  regular  troojis  amount- 
ed, exclusively  of  the  corps  of  artillery,  to  about  7,200  men,  rank 
and  file.  Nearly  half  of  these  were  Germans.  He  had  also  an 
auxiliary  force  of  from  two  to  three  thousand  Canadians.  He 
summmoned  the  warriors  of  several  tribes  of  the  red  Indians  near 
the  Western  lakes  to  join  his  army.  Much  eloquence  was  poured 
forth  both  in  America  and  in  England  in  denouncing  the  use  of 
these  savage  auxiliaries.  Yet  Burgoyne  seems  to  have  done  no 
more  than  Montcalm,  Wolfe,  and  other  French,  American,  and 
English  generals  had  done  before  him.  But,  in  truth,  the  lawless 
ferocity  of  the  Indians,  their  unskilfulness  in  regular  action,  and 
the  utter  impossibility  of  bringing  them  under  any  discipline, 
made  their  services  of  little  or  no  value  in  times  of  difficulty  ; 
while  the  indignation  which  their  outrages  inspired  went  far  to 
rouse  the  whole  population  of  the  invaded  districts  into  active 
hostilities  against  Burgoyne's  force. 

Burgoyne  assembled  his  troops  and  confederates  near  the  Kiver 
Bonquet,  on  the  west  side  of  Lake  Champlain.  He  then,  on  the 
21st  of  June,  1777,  gave  his  red  allies  a  war  feast,  and  harangued 
them  on  the  necessity  of  abstaining  from  their  usiial  cruel  prac- 
tices against  unarmed  people  and  prisoners.  At  the  same  time,  he 
published  a  pompous  manifesto  to  the  Americans,  in  which  he 
threatened  the  refractoiy  with  all  the  horrors  of  war,  Indian  as  well 
as  European.  The  army  proceeded  by  water  to  Crown  Point,  a 
fortification  which  the  Americans  held  at  the  northern  extremity 
of  the  inlet,  by  which  the  water  from  Lake  George  is  conveyed  to 
Lake  Champlain.  He  landed  here  without  opposition;  but  the 
reduction  of  Ticonderoga,  a  fortification  about  twelve  miles  from 
Crown  Point,  was  a  more  serious  matter,  and  was  supposed  to  be 
the  most  critical  part  of  the  expedition.  Ticonderoga  commanded 
the  passage  along  the  lakes,  and  was  considered  to  be  the  key  to 
the  route  which  Burgoyne  wished  to  follow.  The  English  had  been 
repulsed  in  an  attack  on  it  in  the  war  with  the  French  in  1758  with 
severe  loss.  But  Burgoyne  now  invested  it  with  great  skill;  and 
the  American  general,  St.  Clair,  who  had  only  an  ill  equipped 
army  of  3,000  men,  evacuated  it  on  the  5th  of  July.  It  seems  evi- 
dent that  a  different  course  would  have  caused  the  destruction  or 
capture  of  his  whole  army,  which,  weak  as  it  was,  was  the  chief 
D.B.— 9 


258  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

force  then  in  the  field  for  the  protection  of  the  New  England  States. 
When  censured  by  some  of  his  countrymen  for  abandoning  Ticon- 
deroga  St.  Clair  truly  replied  "that  he  had  lost  a  post,  but  saved  a 
province.  "  Burgoyne's  troops  pursued  the  retiring  Americans, 
gained  several  advantages  over  them,  and  took  a  large  part  of  their 
artillery  and  military  stores. 

The  loss  of  the  British  in  these  engagements  was  trifling.  The 
army  moved  southward  along  Lake  George  to  Skenesborough,  and 
thence,  slowly  and  with  great  difficulty,  across  a  broken  country, 
full  of  creeks  and  marshes,  and  clogged  by  the  enemy  with  felled 
trees  and  other  obstacles,  to  Fort  Edward,  on  the  Hudson  Eiver, 
the  American  troops  continuing  to  retire  before  them. 

Burgoyne  reached  the  left  bank  of  the  Hudson  Eiver  on  the  30th 
of  July.  Hitherto  he  had  overcome  every  difficulty  which  the  enemy 
and  the  nature  of  the  country  had  placed  in  his  way.  His  army 
■was  in  excellent  order  and  in  the  highest  spirits,  and  the  peril  of 
the  expedition  seemed  over  when  once  on  the  bank  of  the  river 
which  was  to  be  the  channel  of  communication  between  them  and 
the  British  army  in  the  South.  But  their  feelings,  and  those  of  the 
English  nation  in  general  when  their  successes  were  announced, 
may  best  be  learned  from  a  contemporary  writer.  Burkp  in  the 
"Annual  Register"  for  1777,  describes  them  thus: 

"Such  was  the  rapid  torrent  of  success,  which  swept  every  tning 
away  before  the  Northern  army  in  its  onset.  It  is  not  to  be  won- 
dered at  if  both  officers  and  private  men  were  highly  elated  with 
their  good  fortune,  and  deemed  that  and  their  prowess  to  be  irre- 
sistible; if  they  regarded  their  enemy  with  the  greatest  contempt ; 
considered  their  own  toils  to  be  nearly  at  an  end;  Albany  to  be  al- 
ready in  their  hands;  and  the  reduction  of  the  northern  provinces 
to  be  rather  a  matter  of  some  time  than  an  arduous  task  full  of  diffi- 
culty and  danger. 

"At  home,  the  joy  and  exultation  was  extreme;  not  only  at  court, 
but  with  all  those  who  hoped  or  wished  the  unqualified  subjugation 
and  unconditional  submission  of  the  colonies.  The  loss  of  repu- 
tation was  greater  to  the  Americans,  and  capable  of  more  fatal 
consequences,  than  even  that  of  groiind,  of  posts,  of  artillery, 
or  of  men.  All  the  contemptuous  and  most  degrading  charges 
which  had  been  made  by  their  enemies,  of  their  wanting  the  resolu- 
tion and  abilities  of  men,  even  in  their  defense  of  whatever  was 
dear  to  them,  were  now  repeated  and  believed.  Those  who  still 
regarded  them  as  men,  and  who  had  not  yet  lost  all  affection  to 
them  as  brethren;  who  also  retained  hopes  that  a  happy  reconcilia- 
tion upon  constitutional  principles,  without  sacrificing  the  dignity 
of  just  authority  of  government  on  the  one  side,  or  dereliction  of 
rights  of  freemen  on  the  other,  was  not  even  now  impossible,  not- 
withstanding their  favorable  dispositions  in  general,  could  not  help 
feeling  upon  this  occasion  that  the  Americans  sunk  not  a  little  in 
their  estimation.     It  was  not  difficult  to  diffuse  an  opinion  that  the 


VICTORY  OF  THE  AMERICANS  AT  SARATOGA.      259 

■war  in  effect  was  over,  and  that  any  farther  resistance  could  serve 
only  to  render  the  terms  of  their  submission  the  worse.  Such  wgre 
Bome  of  the  immediate  effects  of  the  loss  of  the  grand  keys  of  North 
America — Ticonderoga,  and  the  lakes. 

The  astonishment  and  alarm  which  these  events  produced  among 
the  Americans  were  naturally  great ;  but  in  the  midst  of  their  dis- 
asters, none  of  the  colonists  showed  any  disposition  to  submit. 
The  local  governments  of  the  New  England  States,  as  well  as  tha 
Congress,  acted  with  vi2;or  and  firmness  in  their  efforts  to  repel  tha 
enemy.  General  Gates  was  sent  to  take  the  command  of  the  army 
at  Saratoga  ;  and  Arnold,  a  favorite  leader  of  the  Americans,  was 
dispatched  hj  Washington  to  act  under  him,  with  re-enforcements 
of  troops  and  guns  from  the  main  American  army.  Burgoyne's 
employment  of  the  Indians  now  produced  the  worst  possible  effects. 
Though  he  labored  hard  to  check  the  atrocities  which  they  were 
accustomed  to  commit,  he  could  not  prevent  the  occurrence  of 
many  barbarous  outrages,  repugnant  both  to  the  feelings  of  hu- 
manity and  to  the  laws  of  civilized  warfare.  The  American  com- 
manders took  care  that  the  reports  of  these  excesses  should  be 
circulated  far  and  wide,  well-knowing  that  they  would  make  the 
stern  New  Englanders  not  droop,  but  rage.  Such  was  their  effect ; 
and  though,  when  each  man  looked  upon  his  wife,  his  children, 
his  sisters,  or  his  aged  parents,  the  thought  of  the  merciless  Indian 
"thirsting  for  the  blood  of  man,  woman,  and  child,"  of  "the  can- 
nibal savage  torturing,  murdering,  roasting,  and  eating  the  man- 
gled victims  of  his  barbarous  battles,"*  might  raise  terror  in  the 
bravest  breasts  ;  this  very  terror  produced  a  directly  contrary  effect 
to  causing  submission  to  the  royal  army.  It  was  seen  that  the  few 
friends  of  the  royal  cause  as  well  as  its  enemies,  were  liable  to  be 
the  victims  of  the  indiscriminate  rage  of  the  savages  ;t  and  thus 
"the  inhabitants  of  the  open  and  frontier  countries  had  no  choice 
of  acting  :  they  had  no  means  of  security  left  but  by  abandoning 
their  habitations  and  taking  up  arms.  Every  man  saw  the  necessity 
of  becoming  a  tempory  soldier,  not  only  for  his  own  security,  but 
for  the  protection  and  defense  of  those  connections  which  are 
dearer  than  life  itself.  Thus  an  army  was  poured  forth  by  the 
woods,  mountains,  and  marshes,  which  in  this  part  were  thickly 
sown  with  plantations  and  villages.  The  Americans  recalled  their 
courage,  and,  when  their  regular  army  seemed  to  be  entirely  wasted, 
the  spirit  of  the  country  produced  a  much  greater  and  more  formid- 
able force. "t 

While  resolute  recruits,  accustomed  to  the  use  of  fire-arms,  and 
all  partially  trained  by  service  in  the  provincial  militias,  were 
thus  flocking  to  the  standard  of  Gates  and  Arnold  at  Saratoga,  and 

•  Lord  Chatham's  speech  on  the  employment  of  Indians  In  the  war. 
t  see,  In  the  '-.Annual  Ke^ster  "  for  I'TT,  p.  117.  tlie  "  Narrative  of  the 
Murder  of  Miss  M'C'rea,  the  UaugUter  of  an  Amertcaa  Loyalist,"       X  BurK* 


2«0  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

while  Burgoyne  was  engaged  at  Fort  Edward  in  providing  the 
means  for  the  farther  advance  of  his  army  thi-ough  the  intricate 
and  hostile  country  that  still  lay  before  him,  two  events  occurred, 
in  each  of  which  the  British  sustained  loss  and  the  Americans  ob- 
tained advantage, the  moral  effects  of  which  were  even  more  import- 
ant than  the  immediate  result  of  the  encounters.  When  Burgoyne 
left  Canada,  General  St.  Leger  was  detached  from  that  province 
with  a  mixed  force  of  about  1000  men  and  some  light  field-pieces 
across  Lake  Ontario  against  Fort  Stanwix,  which  the  Americans 
held.  After  capturing  this,  he  was  to  march  along  the  Mohawk 
River  to  its  confluence  with  the  Hudson,  between  Saratogo  and 
Albany,  where  his  force  and  that  of  Burgoyne's  were  to  unite. 
But,  after  some  successes,  St.  Leger  was  obliged  to  retreat,  and  to 
abandon  his  tents  and  large  quantities  of  stores  to  the  garrison. 
At  the  very  time  that  General  Burgoyne  heard  of  this  disaster,  he 
experienced  one  still  more  severe  in  the  defeat  of  Colonel  Baum, 
with  a  large  detachment  of  German  troops,  at  Bennington,  whither 
Burgoyne  had  sent  them  for  the  purpose  of  capturing  some  maga- 
zines of  provisions,  of  which  the  British  army  stood  greatly  in 
need.  The  Americans,  augmented  by  continual  accessions  of 
strength,  succeeded,  after  many  attacks,  in  breaking  this  corps, 
which  fled  into  the  woods,  and  left  its  commander  mortally 
wounded  on  the  field  :  they  then  marched  against  a  force  of  five 
hundred  grenadiers  and  light  infantry,  which  was  advancing  to 
Colonel  Baum's  assistance  under  Lieutenant-Colonel  Breyman, 
who,  after  a  gallant  resistance,  was  obliged  to  retreat  on  the  main 
army.  The  British  loss  in  these  two  actions  exceeded  six  hundred 
men  ;  and  a  party  of  American  Loyalists,  on  their  way  to  join  the 
Army,  having  attached  themselves  to  Colonel  Baum's  corps,  were 
destroyed  with  it. 

Notwithstanding  these  reverses,  which  added  greatly  to  the 
spirit  and  numbers  of  the  American  forces,  Burgoyne  determined 
to  advance.  It  was  impossible  any  longer  to  keep  up  his  communi- 
cations with  Canada  by  way  of  the  lakes,  so  as  to  supi^ly  his 
army  on  his  southward  march  ;  but  having,  by  unremitting  exer- 
tions, collected  provisions  for  thirty  days,  he  crossed  the  Hudson 
by  means  of  a  bridge  of  rafts,  and,  marching  a  short  distance 
along  its  western  bank,  he  encamped  on  the  14th  of  September  on 
the  heights  of  Sakatoga,  about  sixteen  miles  from  Albany.  The 
Americans  had  fallen  back  from  .Saratoga,  and  were  now  strongly 
posted  near  Stillwater,  about  half  way  between  Saratoga  and  Al- 
bany, and  showed  a  determination  to  recede  no  farther. 

Meanwhile  Lord  Howe,  with  the  bulk  of  the  British  army  that 
had  lain  at  New  York,  had  sailed  away  to  the  Delaware,  and  there 
commenced  a  campaign  against  Washington,  in  which  the  English 
general  took  Philadelphia,  and  gained  other  showy  but  unprofitable 
successes.  Biit  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  a  brave  and  skilful  officer,  was 
left  with  a  considerable  force  at  New  York,  and  he  undertook  the 


VICTOR r  OF  THE  AMEBIC AXS  AT  SARATOGA.      261 

task  of  moving  np  tlie  Hudson  to  co-operate  with  Burgoyne. 
Clinton  was  obliged  for  this  purpose  to  wait  for  re-enforcements 
which  had  been  promised  from  England,  and  these  did  not  arrive 
till  September.  As  soon  as  he  received  them,  Clinton  embarked 
about  3,000  of  his  men  on  a  flotilla,  convoyed  by  some  ships  of 
war  under  Commander  Hotham,  and  proceeded  to  force  his  way 
up  the  river. 

The  country  between  Burgojme's  position  at  Saratoga  and  that 
of  the  Americans  at  Stillwater  was  rugged,  and  seamed  with  creeks 
and  water-courses  ;  but,  after  great  labor  in  making  bridges  and 
temporary  causeways,  the  British  army  moved  forward.  About  four 
miles  from  Saratoga,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  19th  of  September,  a 
sharp  encounter  took  place  between  part  of  the  English  right  wing, 
under  Burgoyne  himself,  and  a  strong  body  of  the  enemy,  under 
Gates  and  Arnold.  The  conflict  lasted  till  sunset.  The  British 
remained  masters  of  the  field  ;  but  the  loss  on  each  side  was  nearly 
equal  (from  five  hundred  to  six  hundred  men);  and  the  spirits  of 
the  Americans  were  greatly  raised  by  having  withstood  the  best 
regular  troops  of  the  English  army.  Burgoyne  now  halted  again, 
and  strengthened  his  position  by  field-works  and  redoubts  ;  and 
the  Americans  also  improved  their  defenses.  The  two  armies  re- 
mained nearly  within  cannon-shot  of  each  other  for  a  considerable 
time,  during  which  Burgoyne  was  anxiously  leoking  for  intelli- 
gence of  the  promised  expedition  from  New  York,  which,  according 
to  the  original  plan,  ought  by  this  time  to  have  been  approaching 
Albany  from  the  south.  At  last  a  messenger  from  Clinton  made 
his  way,  with  great  difficulty,  to  Burgoyne's  camp  and  brought  the 
information  that  Clinton  was  on  his  way  up  the  Hudson  to  attack 
the  American  forts  which  barred  the  passage  up  that,  river  to  Albany. 
Burgoyne,  in  reply,  stated  his  hopes  that  the  promised  co-opera- 
tion would  bo  speedy  and  decisive,  and  added,  that  unless  he  re- 
ceived assistance  before  the  10th  of  October,  he  would  be  obliged 
to  retreat  to  the  lakes  through  want  of  provisions. 

The  Indians  and  the  Canadians  now  began  to  desert  Burgoyne, 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  Gates's  army  was  continually  re-enforced 
by  fresh  bodies  of  the  militia.  An  expeditionary  force  was  de- 
tached by  the  Americans,  which  made  a  bold,  though  unsuccessful 
attempt  to  retake  Ticonderoga.  And  finding  the  number  and 
spirit  of  the  enemy  to  increase  daily  and  his  own  stores  of  pro- 
visions to  diminish,  Burgoyne  determined  on  attacking  the  Amer- 
icans in  front  of  him,  and,  by  dislodging  them  from  their  position, 
to  gain  the  means  of  moving  upon  Albany,  or,  at  least,  of  relieving 
his  troops  from  the  straitened  position  in  which  they  were  cooped 
up. 

Burgoyne's  force  was  now  reduced  to  less  than  fi,000  men.  The 
right  of  his  camp  was  on  some  high  ground  a  little  to  the  west  of 
the  river  :  thence  his  intrenchments  extended  along  the  lower 
KTonnd  to  the  bank  of  the  Hudson,  their  line  being  nearly  at  a 


262  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

right  angle  with  the  course  of  the  stream.  The  lines  were  fortified 
in  the  center  and  on  the  left  with  redoubts  and  fieldworks.  The 
numerical  force  of  the  Americans  was  now  greater  than  the  British, 
even  in  regular  troops,  and  the  numbers  of  the  militia  and  volun- 
teers which  had  joined  Gates  and  Arnold  were  greater  still.  The 
right  of  the  American  position,  that  is  to  say,  the  part  of  it  nearest 
to  the  river,  was  ioo  strong  to  be  assailed  with  any  prospect  of 
success,  and  Burgoyne  therefore  determined  to  endeavor  to  force 
their  left.  For  this  purpose  he  formed  a  column  of  1500  regular 
troops,  with  two  twelve-pounders,  two  howitzers,  and  six  six- 
pounders.  He  headed  this  in  person,  having  Generals  Philips, 
Eiedesel,  and  Frazer  under  him.  The  enemy's  force  immediately 
in  front  of  his  lines  was  so  strong  that  he  dared  not  weaken  the 
troops  who  guarded  them  by  detaching  any  more  to  strengthen  his 
column  of  attack.  The  right  of  the  camp  was  commanded  by 
Generals  Hamilton  and  Spaight ;  the  left  part  of  it  was  committed 
to  the  charge  of  Brigadier  GoU. 

It  was  on  the  7th  of  October  that  Burgoyne  led  his  column  on  to 
the  attack;  and  on  the  preceding  day,  the  6th.  Clinton  had  suc- 
cessfully executed  a  brilliant  enterprise  against  the  two  American 
forts  which  barred  his  progress  up  the  Hudson.  He  had  captured 
them  both,  with  severe  loss  to  the  American  forces  opposed  to  him; 
he  had  destroyed  the  fleet  which  the  Americans  had  been  forming 
on  the  Hudson,  under  the  protection  of  their  forts;  and  the  up- 
ward river  was  laid  open  to  his  squadron.  He  was  now  only  a 
hundred  and  fifty-six  miles  distant  from  Burgoyne,  and  a  detach- 
ment of  1700  men  actually  advanced  within  forty  miles  of  Albany. 
Unfortunately,  Burgoyne  and  Clinton  were  each  ignorant  of  the 
other's  movements;  but  if  Burgoyne  had  won  his  battle  on  the  7tb, 
he  must,  on  advancing,  have  soon  learned  the  tidings  of  Clinton's 
success,  and  Clinton  would  have  heard  of  his.  A  junction  would 
soon  have  been  made  of  the  two  victorious  armies,  and  the  great 
objects  of  the  campaign  might  yet  have  been  accomplished.  All 
depended  on  the  fortune  of  the  column  with  which  Burgoyne,  on 
the  eventful  7th  of  October,  1777,  advanced  against  the  American 
position.  There  were  brave  men,  both  English  and  German,  in 
its  ranks;  and,  in  jaarticular,  it  comprised  one  of  the  best  bodies  of 
Grenadiers  in  the  British  service. 

Burgoyne  pushed  forward  some  bodies  of  irregular  troops  to 
distract  the  enemy's  attention,  and  led  his  column  to  within  three 
quarters  of  a  mile  from  the  left  of  Gates's  camp,  and  then  deploy- 
ed his  men  into  line.  The  Grenadiers  under  Major  Ackland  were 
drawn  up  on  the  left,  a  corps  of  Germans  in  the  center,  and  the 
English  Light  Infantry  and  the  24th  regiment  on  the  right.  But 
Gates  did  not  waitto  be  attacked; and  directly  the  British  line  was 
formed  and  began  to  advance,  the  American  general,  with  admir- 
able skill,  caused  a  strong  force  to  make  a  sudden  and  vehement 
rush  against  its  left.   The  Grenadiers  under  Ackland  sustained  the 


VICTORY  OF  TEH  AMERICAXS  AT  SARATOGA.      263 

charge  of  superior  numbers  nobly.  But  Gates  sent  more  Ameri- 
cang  forward,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  action  became  general  along 
the  center,  so  as  to  prevent  the  Germans  from  sending  any  help 
to  the  Grenadiers.  Burgoyne's  right  was  not  yet  engaged  ;  but  a 
mass  of  the  enemy  were  observed  advancing  from  their  extreme 
left,  with  the  evident  intention  of  turning  the  British  right,  and 
cutting  off  its  retreat.  The  Light  Infantry  and  the  24;th  now  fell 
back,  and  formed  an  oblique  second  line,  which  enabled  them  to 
baffle  this  maneuver,  and  also  to  succor  their  comrades  in  the  left 
wing,  the  gallant  Grenadiers,  who  were  overpowered  by  superior 
numbers,  and,  but  for  this  aid,  must  have  been  cut  to  pieces. 
Arnold  now  came  up  with  three  American  regiments,  and  attacked 
the  right  flank  of  the  English  double  line.  Burgoyne's  whole 
force  was  soon  compelled  to  retreat  toward  their  camp  ;  the  left 
and  center  were  in  complete  disorder  ;  but  the  Light  Infantry  and 
the  24th  checked  the  fury  of  the  assailants,  and  the  remains  of 
Burgoyne's  column  with  great  difficulty  effected  their  return  to 
their  camp,  leaving  six  of  their  guns  in  the  possession  of  the 
enemy,  and  great  numbers  of  killed  and  wounded  on  the  field  ; 
and  especially  a  large  proportion  of  the  artillery-men,  who  had 
stood  to  their  guns  until  shot  down  or  bayoneted  beside  them  by 
the  advancing  Americans. 

Burgoyne's  column  had  been  defeated,  but  the  action  was  not  yet 
over.  "The  English  had  scarcely  entered  the  camp,  when  the 
Americans,  pursuing  their  success,  assaulted  it  in  several  places 
with  uncommon  fierceness,  rushing  to  the  lines  through  a  severe 
fire  of  grape-shot  and  musketry  with  the  utmost  fury.  Arnold 
especially,  who  on  this  day  appeared  maddened  with  the  thirst  of 
combat  and  carnage,  urged  on  the  attack  against  a  part  of  the  in- 
trenchments  which  was  occupied  by  the  Light  Infantry  under  Lord 
Balcarras.*  But  the  English  received  him  with  vigor  and  spirit. 
The  struggle  here  was  obstinate  and  sanguinary.  At  length,  as  it 
grew  toward  evening,  Arnold,  having  forced  all  obstacles,  entered 
the  works  with  some  of  the  most  fearless  of  his  followers.  I!ut  in 
this  critical  moment  of  glory  and  danger  he  received  a  painful 
wound  in  the  same  leg  which  had  already  been  injured  at  the 
issault  on  Quebec.  To  his  bitter  regret,  he  was  obliged  to  be  car- 
ried back.  His  party  still  continued  the  attack  ;  but  the  English 
also  continiied  their  obstinate  resistance,  and  at  last  night  fell,  and 
the  assailants  withdrew  from  this  quarter  of  the  British  intrench- 
ments.  But  in  another  paii  the  attack  had  been  more  successful. 
A  body  of  the  Americans,  under  Colonel  Brooke,  forced  their  way 
in  through  a  j^art  of  the  intrenchments  on  the  extreme  right,  which 
was  defended  by  the  German  reserve  under  Colonel  Breyman. 
The  Germans  resisted  well,  and  Breyman  died  in  defense  of  hi8 
post ;  but  the  Americans  made  good  the  ground  which  they  had 

*  Botta'8  "American  War,"  book  vlll. 


264  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

•won,  and  captured  baggage,  tents,  artillery,  and  a  store  of  ammu- 
nition, which  they  were  greatly  in  need  of.  They  had,  by  estab- 
lishing themselves  on  this  point,  acquired  the  means  of  completely 
tiirning  the  right  flank  of  the  British,  and  gaining  their  rear.  To 
prevent  this  calamity,  Burgoyne  effected  during  the  night  a  com- 
plete change  of  position.  With  great  skill,  he  removed  his  whole 
army  to  some  heights  near  the  river,  a  little  northward  of  the 
former  camp,  and  he  there  drew  up  his  men,  expecting  to  be  at- 
tacked on  the  following  day.  But  Gates  was  resolved  not  to  risk 
the  certain  triumph  which  his  success  had  already  secured  for  him. 
He  harassed  the  English  with  skirmishes,  but  attempted  no  regular 
attack.  Meanwhile  he  detached  bodies  of  troops  on  both  sides  of 
the  Hudson  to  prevent  the  British  from  recrossing  that  river  and  to 
bar  their  retreat.  When  night  fell,  it  became  absolutely  necessary 
for  Biirgoyne  to  retire  again,  and,  accordinglj",  the  troops  were 
marched  throiagh  a  stormy  and  rainy  night  toward  Saratoga,  aban- 
doning their  sick  and  wounded,  and  the  greater  part  of  their  baggage 
to  the  enemy. 

Before  the  rear  guard  quitted  the  camp,  the  last  sad  honors  were 
paid  to  the  brave  General  Frazer,  who  had  been  mortally  wounded 
on  the  7th,  and  expired  on  the  following  day.  The  funeral  of  this 
gallant  soldier  is  thus  described  by  the  Italian  historian  Botta  : 

"  Toward  midnight  the  body  of  General  Frazer  was  biiried  in 
the  British  camp.  His  brother  officers  assembled  sadly  round 
while  the  funeral  service  was  read  over  the  remains  of  their  brave 
comrade,  and  his  body  was  committed  to  the  hostile  earth.  The 
ceremony,  always  mournful  and  solemn  of  itself,  was  rendered 
even  terrible  by  the  sense  of  recent  losses,  of  present  and  future 
dangers,  and  of  regret  for  the  deceased.  Meanwhile  the  blaze  and 
roar  of  th§  American  artilllery  amid  the  natural  darkness  and  still- 
ness of  the  night  came  on  the  senses  with  startling  awe.  The 
grave  had  been  dug  within  range  of  the  enemy's  batteries  ;  and 
while  the  service  was  proceeding,  a  cannon  ball  struck  the  ground 
close  to  the  coffin,  and  spattered  earth  over  the  face  of  the  officiat- 
ing chaplain."* 

Burgoyne  now  took  up  his  last  position  on  the  heights  near  Sara- 
toga ;  and  hemmed  in  by  the  enemy  who  refused  any  encounter, 
and  baffled  in  all  his  attempts  at  finding  a  path  of  escape,  he  there 
lingered  until  famine  compelled  him  to  capitulate.  The  fortitude 
of  tlie  British  army  diiring  this  melancholy  period  has  been  justly 
eulogized  by  many  native  historians,  but  I  prefer  q\;oting  the  tes- 
timony of  a  foreign  writer,  as  free  from  all  possibility  of  partiality. 
Botta  says:t 

"It  exceeds  the  power  of  words  to  describe  the  pitiable  condition 
to  which  the  British  army  was  now  reduced.  The  troops  were 
-worn  down  by  a  series  of  toil,  privation,  sickness  and  desperate 

*  BottB,  book  vlli.  t  Book  Till. 


VIGTORT  OF  THE  AMERICANS  AT  SARATOGA.      265 

fighting.  They  were  abandoned  by  the  Indians  and  Canadians, 
and  the  eflfective  force  of  the  whole  army  was  now  diminished  by 
repeated  and  heavy  losses,  which  had  principally  fallen  on  the  best 
soldiers  and  the  most  distinguished  officers,  from  10,000  combat- 
ants to  less  than  one  half  that  number.  Of  this  remnant  little  more 
than  3,000  were  English. 

"In  these  circumstances,  and  thus  weakened,  they  were  invested 
by  an  ai-my  of  four  times  their  own  number,  whose  position  ex- 
tended three  parts  of  a  circle  round  them  ;  who  refused  to  fight 
them,  as  knowing  their  weakness,  and  who,  from  the  nature  of  the 
ground  could  not  be  attacked  in  any  part.  In  this  helpless  con- 
dition, obliged  to  be  constantly  under  arms,  while  the  enemy's 
cannon  played  on  every  part  of  their  camp,  and  even  the  American 
rifle  balls  whistled  in  many  parts  of  the  lines,  the  troops  of  Bur- 
goyne  retained  their  customary  firmness,  and,  while  sinking  under 
a  hard  necessity,  they  showed  themselves  worthy  of  a  better  fate. 
They  could  not  be  reproached  with  an  action  or  a  word  which 
betrayed  a  want  of  temper  or  of  fortitude." 

At  length  the  13th  of  October  arrived,  and  as  no  prospect  of 
assistance  appeared,  and  the  provisions  were  nearly  exhausted, 
Burgoyne,  by  the  unanimous  advice  of  a  council  of  war,  sent  a 
messenger  to  the  American  camp  to  treat  of  a  Convention. 

General  Gates  in  the  first  instance  demanded  that  the  royal  army 
should  surrender  prisoners  of  war.  He  also  proposed  that  the 
British  should  ground  their  arms.  Burgoyne  replied,  ' '  This  article 
is  inadmissible  in  every  extremity  ;  sooner  than  this  army  will 
consent  to  ground  their  arms  in  their  encampment,  they  will  rush 
on  the  enemy,  determined  to  take  no  quarter."  After  various 
messages,  a  convention  for  the  surrender  of  the  army  was  settled, 
which  provided  that  "the  troops  under  General  Burgoyne  were  to 
march  out  of  their  camp  with  the  honors  of  war,  and  the  artillery 
of  the  entrenchments,  to  the  verge  of  the  river,  where  the  arms  and 
artillery  were  to  be  left.  The  arms  to  be  piled  by  word  of  command 
from  their  own  officers.  A  free  passage  was  to  be  granted  to  the 
army  under  Lieutenant  General  Burgoyne  to  Great  Britain,  iipon 
condition  of  not  serving  again  in  North  America  during  the  pres- 
ent contest." 

The  Articles  of  Capitulation  were  settled  on  the  15th  of  October  ; 
and  on  that  very  evening  a  messenger  arrived  from  Clinton  with 
an  account  of  his  success,  and  with  the  tidings  that  part  of  his 
force  had  penetrated  as  far  as  Esopus,  within  fifty  miles  of  Bur- 
goyne's  camp.  But  it  was  too  late.  The  public  faith  was  pledged; 
and  the  army  was  indeed  too  debilitated  by  fatigue  and  hunger  to 
resist  an  attack,  if  made  ;  and  Gates  certainly  would  have  made  it, 
if  the  Convention  hud  bet-n  broken  off.  Accordingly,  on  the  17th, 
the  Convention  of  Saratoga  was  carried  into  efifect.  '  By  this  Con- 
Tention  5,790  iiit.-n  surrendered  themselves  as  prisoners.  The  sick 
nnd  wounded  left  in  the  c^mp  when  the  British  retreated  to  Sarft- 


266  DECISlvji  BATTLES. 

toga,  together  with  the  numbers  of  the  British,  German,  and  Cana- 
dian troops  who  were  killed,  wounded,  or  taken,  and  who  had 
deserted  in  the  preceding  part  of  the  expedition,  were  reckoned 
to  be  4,689. 

The  British  sick  and  wounded  who  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of 
the  Amerians  after  the  battle  of  the  seventh  were  treated  with  ex- 
emplary humanity;  and  when  the  Convention  was  executed,  Gen- 
eral Gates  showed  a  noble  delicacy  of  feeling,  which  deserves  the 
highest  degree  of  honor.  Every  circumstance  was  avoided  which 
could  give  the  appearance  of  triumph.  The  American  troojis 
remained  within  their  lines  until  the  British  had  lulled  their  arms; 
and  when  this  was  done,  the  vanquished  officers  and  soldiers  were 
received  with  freindly  kindness  by  their  victors,  and  their  immedi- 
ate wants  were  promptly  and  liberally  supplied.  Discussions  and 
disputes  afterward  arose  as  to  some  of  the  terms  of  the  Convention, 
and  the  American  Congress  refused  for  a  long  time  to  carry  into 
effect  the  article  which  provided  for  the  return  of  Burgoyne's  men 
to  Europe  ;  but  no  blame  was  imputed  to  General  Gates  or  his 
army,  who  showed  themselves  to  be  generous  as  they  had  proved 
themselves  to  be  brave. 

Gates,  after  the  victory,  immediately  dispatched  to  Colonel  Wil- 
kinson to  carry  the  happy  tidings  to  Congress.  On  being  intro- 
duced into  the  hall,  he  said,  "The  whole  British  army  has  laid 
its  arms  at  Saratoga  ;  our  own,  full  of  vigor  and  courage,  expect 
your  orders.  It  is  for  your  wisdom  to  decide  where  the  country 
may  still  have  need  of  their  services."  Honors  and  rewards  were 
liberallj'  voted  by  the  Congress  to  their  conquering  general  and 
his  men  ;  and  it  would  be  difficult  (says  the  Italian  historian)  to 
describe  the  transports  of  joy  which  the  news  of  this  event  excited 
among  the  Americans.  They  began  to  flatter  themselves  with  a 
still  more  happy  future.  No  one  any  longer  felt  any  doubt  about 
their  achieving  their  independence.  All  hoped,  and  with  good 
reason,  that  a  success  of  this  importance  would  at  length  determine 
France,  and  the  other  European  powers  that  waited  for  her  exam 
pie,  to  declare  themselves  in  favor  of  America.  "  There  could  no 
longer  he  any  question  respecting  the  future,  since  there  was  no 
longer  the  risk  of  espousing  the  cause  of  a  people  too  feeble  to  defend 
themselves."* 

The  truth  of  this  was  soon  displayed  in  the  conduct  of  France. 
When  the  news  arrived  at  Paris  of  the  capture  of  Ticonderoga, 
and  of  the  victorious  march  of  Burgoyne  toward  Albany,  events 
which  seemed  decisive  in  favor  of  the  English,  instructions  had 
been  immediately  dispatched  to  Nantz,  and  the  other  ports  of  the 
kingdom,  that  no  American  privateers  should  be  suffered  to  enter 
them,  except  from  indispensable  necessity,  as  to  repair  their  vessels^ 
to  obtain  provisions,  or  to  escape  the  perils  of  the  sea.    The  Amer- 

*  BolCa,  book  Ix. 


BATTLE  OF  VALMY.  267 

ican  commissioners  at  Paris,  in  their  disgust  and  despair,  had  almost 
broken  off  all  negotiations  with  the  French  government  ;  and  they 
even  endeavored  to  open  communications  with  the  British  minis- 
try. But  the  British  government,  elated  with  the  first  success  of 
Burgoyne,  refused  to  listen  to  any  overtures  for  accommodation. 
But  when  the  news  of  Saratoga  reached  Paris,  the  whole  scene  was 
changed.  Franklin  and  his  brother  commissioners  found  all  their 
difficulties  with  the  French  government  vanish.  The  time  seemed 
to  have  arrived  for  the  house  of  Bourbon  to  take  full  revenge  for  all 
its  humiliations  and  losses  in  previous  wars.  In  December  a  treaty 
was  arranged  and  formally  signed  in  the  February  following,  by 
which  France  acknowledged  the  Independent  United  States  of 
America.  This  was,  of  course,  tantamount  to  a  declaration  of 
war  with  England.  Spain  soon  followed  France  ;  and  before  long, 
Holland  took  the  same  course.  Largely  aided  by  French  fleets 
and  troops,  the  Americans  vigorously  maintained  the  war  against 
the  armies  which  England,  in  spite  of  her  European  foes,  contin- 
ued to  send  across  the  Atlantic.  But  the  struggle  was  too  unequal 
to  be  maintained  by  this  country  for  many  years  ;  and  when  the 
treaties  of  1783  restored  peace  to  the  world,  the  independence  of 
the  United  States  was  reluctantly  recognized  by  their  ancient  parent 
and  recent  enemy,  England. 


Synopsis  of  Events  betweek  the  Defeat  of  Bukgoyne  at  Sara- 
toga, A.D.  1777,  AND  THE  Battle  OF  Valmy,  a.d.  1792. 

1781.  Surrender  of  Lord  Cornwallis  and  the  British  army  to 
Washington. 

1782.  Rodney's  victory   over  the  Spanish   fleet.     Unsuccessful 
siege  of  Gibraltar  by  the  Spaniards  and  French. 

1783.  End  of  the  American  war. 

1788.  The  States-General  are  convened  in  France  ;  beginning  of 
the  Eevolution. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE   battle   of  VALMY,  A.D.    1792. 

Purpurel  metuunt  tyrannl 
Injurloso  ne  pede  proru;is 
Stantfin  coluinnan  :  neu  popiUus  frequens 
Ad  arin:i  i'fss;intes  ad  arma 
Concllet,  Imperlumque  trangat. 

HOKAT.,  Od.  1.,  SO. 

A  little  Are  Is  quickly  trodden  out^ 

Which,  being  suffered,  rivers  caanot  (luench. 

SHAKKblSASS. 


268  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

A  FEW  miles  distant  from  the  little  town  of  St.  Menehould,  in 
the  northeast  of  France,  are  the  village  and  hillof  Valmy;  and  near 
the  crest  of  that  hill  a  simple  monument  points  out  the  burial- 
place  of  the  heart  of  a  general  of  the  French  republic  and  a  mar- 
shal of  the  French  empii-e. 

The  elder  Kellerman  (father  of  the  distinguished  officer  of  that 
name,  whose  cavalry  charge  decided  the  battle  of  Marengo)  held 
high  commands  in  the  French  armies  throughout  the  wars  of  the 
Convention,  the  Directory,  the  Consialate,  and  the  Empire.  He 
survived  those  wars,  and  the  empire  itself,  dying  in  extreme  old 
age  in  1820.  The  last  wish  of  the  veteran  on  his  death-bed  was 
that  his  heart  should  be  deposited  in  the  battle-field  of  Valmy, 
there  to  repose  among  the  remains  of  his  old  companions  in  arms, 
who  had  fallen  at  his  side  on  that  spot  twenty-eight  years  before, 
on  the  memorable  day  when  they  won  the  primal  victory  of  Rev- 
olutionary France,  and  prevented  the  armies  of  Brunswick  and 
the  emigrant  bands  of  Conde  from  marching  on  defenseless  Paris, 
and  destroying  the  immature  democracy  in  its  cradle. 

The  Duke  of  Valmy  (for  Kellerman,  when  made  one  of  Napo- 
leon's military  peers  in  1802,  took  his  title  from  this  same  battle- 
field) had  participated,  during  his  long  and  active  career,  in  the 
gaining  of  many  a  victory  far  more  immediately  dazzling  than  the 
one,  the  remembrance  of  which  he  thus  cherished.  He  had  been 
present  at  many  a  scene  of  carnage,  where  blood  flowed  in  del- 
uges, compared  with  which  the  libations  of  slaughter  poured  out 
at  Valmy  would  have  seemed  scant  and  insignificant.  But  he 
rightly  estimated  the  paramount  importance  of  the  battle  with 
which  he  thus  wished  his  appellation  while  living,  and  his  mem- 
ory after  his  death,  to  be  identified.  The  successful  resistance 
which  the  raw  Carmagnole  levies  and  the  disorganized  relics  of 
the  old  monarchy's  army  then  opposed  to  the  combined  hosts  and 
chosen  leaders  of  Prussia,  Austria,  and  the  French  refugee  no- 
blesse, determined  at  once  and  forever  the  belligerent  character  of 
the  revolution.  The  raw  artisans  and  tradesmen,  the  clumsy 
burghers,  the  base  mechanics,  and  low  peasant-churls,  as  it  had 
been  the  fashion  to  term  the  middle  and  lower  classes  in  France, 
found  that  they  could  face  cannon  balls,  pull  triggers,  and  cross 
bayonets  without  having  been  drilled  into  military  machines,  and 
without  being  officered  by  scions  of  noble  houses.  They  awoke 
to  the  consciousness  of  their  own  instinctive  soldiership.  They 
at  once  acquired  confidence  in  themselves  and  in  each  other  ;  and 
that  confidence  soon  grew  into  a  spiritof  unbounded  audacity  and 
ambition,  "From  the  cannonade  of  Valmy  may  be  dated  the 
commencement  of  that  career  of  victory  which  carried  their  arm- 
ies to  Vienna  and  the  Kremlin."* 

One  of  the  gravest  reflections  that  aries  from  the  contemplation 

*  Alison. 


BATTLE  OF  VALMT.  269 

«f  the  civil  restlessness  and  military  enthusiasm  which  the  close 
of  the  last  century  saw  nationalized  in  France,  is  the  considera- 
tion that  these  disturbing  influences  have  become  perpetual.  No 
settled  system  of  government,  that  shall  endure  from  generation 
to  generation,  that  shall  be  proof  against  corruption  and  popular 
violence  seems  capable  of  taking  root  among  the  French.  And 
every  revolutionary  movement  in  Paris  thrills  throughout  the 
rest  of  the  world.  Even  the  succsseses  which  the  powers  allied 
against  France  gained  in  1814  and  1815,  important  as  they  were, 
could  not  annul  the  afltects  of  the  preceding  twenty-three  years  of 
general  convulsion  and  war. 

In  1830,  the  dynasty  which  foreign  bayonets  had  imposed  on 
France  was  shaken  off,  and  men  trembled  at  the  expected  out- 
break of  French  anarchy  and  the  dreaded  inroads  of  French  am- 
bition. They  "looked  forward  with  harassing  anxiety  to  a  period 
of  destruction  similar  to  that  which  the  Roman  world  exijerienced 
about  the  middle  of  the  third  centi;ry  of  our  era."*  Louis 
Philippe  cajoled  Eevolution,  and  then  strove  with  seeming  suc- 
cess to  stifle  it.  But,  in  spite  of  Fieschi  laws,  in  spite  of  the  daz- 
zle of  Algerian  razzias  and  Pyrenee-eff'acing  marriages,  in  spite  of 
hundreds  of  armed  forts,  and  hundreds  of  thousands  of  coercing 
troops,  Revolution  lived,  and  struggled  to  get  free.  The  old  Titan 
spirit  heaved  restlessly  beneath  "the  monarchy  based  on  repub- 
lican institutions."  At  last,  three  years  ago,  the  whole  fabric  of 
kingcraft  was  at  once  rent  and  scattered  to  the  winds  by  the  up- 
rising of  the  Parisian  democracy  ;  and  insurrections,  barricades 
and  dethronements,  the  downfalls  of  coronets  and  crowns,  the 
arm?d  collisions  of  parties,  systems,  and  populations,  became  the 
commonplaces  of  recent  European  history. 

France  now  calls  herself  a  republic.  She  first  assumed  that 
title  on  the  20th  of  September,  1792,  on  the  very  day  on  which 
the  battle  of  Valmy  was  fought  and  won.  To  that  battle  the  dem- 
ocratic spirit  which  in  1848,  as  well  as  in  1792,  proclaimed  the 
Kepublic  in  Paris,  owed  its  preservation,  and  it  is  thence  that  the 
imperishable  activity  of  its  principles  may  be  dated. 

Far  different  seemed  the  prospects  of  democracy  in  Europe  on 
the  eve  of  that  battle,  and  far  different  would  have  been  the  pres- 
ent position  and  influence  of  the  French  nation,  if  Brunswick's 
columns  had  charged  with  more  boldness,  or  the  lines  of  Dumou- 
riez  resisted  with  less  firmness.  When  France,  in  1792,  declared 
■war  with  the  great  powers  of  Europe,  she  was  far  from  possessing 
that  splendid  military  orgiinization  which  the  experience  of  a  few 
revolutionary  campaigns  taught  her  to  assume,  and  which  she  has 
never  abandoned.  The  army  of  the  old  monarchy  had,  during 
the  latter  part  of  the  reign  of  Louis  XV.,   sunk  into  gradual 

•  See  Nlebuhr's  Preface  to  the  second  volume  of  tta  Elstory  el  Bouia 
Writtwi  Inootober,  1880. 


270  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

decay,  both  in  nnmerical  force,  and  in  efficiency  of  equipment 
and  spirit.  The  hxurels  gained  by  the  auxiliary  regiments  which 
Louis  XVI.  sent  to  the  American  war,  did  but  little  to  restore  the 
general  tone  of  the  army.  The  insubordination  and  license  which 
the  revolt  of  the  French  guards,  and  the  participation  of  other 
troops  in  many  of  the  first  excesses  of  the  Revolution,  introduced 
among  the  soldiery,  were  soon  rapily  disseminated  through  all  the 
ranks.  Under  the  Legislative  Assembly,  every  complaint  of  the 
soldier  against  his  officer,  however  frivolous  or  ill  founded,  was 
listened  to  with  eagerness,  and  investigated  with  partiality,  on 
the  principles  of  liberty  and  equality.  Discipline  accordingly  be- 
came more  and  more  relaxed  ;  and  the  dissolution  of  several  of 
the  old  corps,  under  the  pretext  of  their  being  tainted  with  an 
aristocratic  feeling,  aggravated  the  confusion  and  inefficiency  of 
the  war  department.  Many  of  the  most  effective  regiments  during 
the  last  period  of  the  monarchy  had  consisted  of  foreigners. 
These  had  either  been  slaughtered  in  defense  of  the  throne 
against  insurrections,  like  the  Swiss,  or  had  been  disbanded,  and 
had  crossed  the  frontier  to  recruit  the  forces  which  were  assem- 
bling for  the  invasion  of  France.  Above  all,  the  emigration  of  the 
noblesse  had  stripped  the  French  army  of  nearly  all  its  officers  of 
high  rank,  and  of  the  greatest  portion  of  its  subalterns.  Above 
twelve  thousand  of  the  high-born  youth  of  France,  who  had  been 
trained  to  regard  military  command  as  their  exclusive  patrimony, 
and  to  whom  the  nation  had  been  accustomed  to  look  up  as  its 
natural  guides  and  champions  in  the  storm  of  war,  were  now  mar- 
shaled beneath  the  banner  of  Conde  and  the  other  emigrant 
princes  for  the  overthrow  of  the  French  armies  and  the  reduction 
of  the  French  capitaL  Their  successors  in  the  French  regiments 
and  brigades  had  as  yet  acquired  neither  skill  nor  experience  ; 
they  possessed  neither  self-reliance,  nor  the  respect  of  the  men 
who  were  under  them. 

Such  was  the  state  of  the  wrecks  of  the  old  army;  but  the  bulk 
of  the  forces  with  which  France  began  the  war  consisted  of  raw 
insurrectionary  levies,  which  were  even  less  to  be  depended  on. 
The  Carmagnoles,  as  the  revolutionary  volunteers  were  called, 
flocked,  indeed,  readily  to  the  frontier  from  every  department 
•^hen  the  war  was  proclaimed,  and  the  fierce  leaders  of  the  Jacobins 
/4iouted  that  Ihe  country  was  in  danger.  They  were  fvdl  of  zeal 
•vnd  courage,  "heated  and  excited  by  the  scenes  of  the  Revolution, 
iind  inflamed  by  the  florid  eloquence,  the  songs,  dances,  and 
signal-words  with  which  it  had  been  celebrated."*  But  they  were 
utterly  undisciplined,  and  turbulently  impatient  of  superior  au- 
thority or  systematic  control.  Many  ruffians,  also,  who  were 
Bullied  with  participation  in  the  most  sanguinary  horrors  of  Paris, 
joined  the  camps,  and  were  pre-eminent  alike  for  misconduct  be- 

*  gcott,  "  Life  of  Napoleon  "  vol.  1.,  c.  vllL 


BATTLE  OF  VALMY.  271 

fore  the  enemy  and  for  savage  insubordination  against  their  own 
officers.  On  one  occasion  during  the  campaign  of  Valmy,  eight 
battalions  of  federates,  intoxicated  with  massacre  and  sedition 
joined  the  forces  under  Dumouriez,  and  soon  threatened  to  iiproot 
all  discipline,  saying  openly  that  the  ancient  officers  were  traitors, 
and  that  it  was  necessary  to  purge  the  army,  as  they  had  Paris,  of 
its  aristocrats.  Dumouriez  posted  these  battalions  apart  from  the 
others,  placed  a  strong  force  of  cavalry  behind  them,  and  two 
pieces  of  cannon  on  their  flank.  Then,  aflfecting  to  review  them, 
he  halted  at  the  head  of  the  line,  surrounded  by  all  his  staff,  and 
an  escort  of  a  hundred  hussars.  "Fellows,"  said  he,  "for  I  will 
not  call  you  either  citizens  or  soldiers,  you  see  before  you  this 
artillery,  behind  you  this  cavalry;  you  are  stained  with  crimes, 
and  I  do  not  tolerate  Eere  assassins  or  executioners.  I  know  that 
there  are  scoundrels  among  you  charged  to  excite  you  to  crime. 
Drive  them  from  among  you,  or  denounce  them  to  me,  for  I  shall 
hold  you  responsible  for  their  conduct."* 

One  of  our  recent  historians  of  the  Revolution,  who  narrates 
this  incident, t  thus  apostrophizes  the  French  general: 

"Patience,  0  Dumouriez!  this  uncertain  heap  of  shriekers, 
mutineers,  were  they  once  drilled  and  inured,  will  become  a  phal- 
anxed  mass  of  fighters;  and  wheel  and  whirl  to  order  swiftly,  like 
the  wind  or  the  whirlwind,  tauned  mustachio-figures,  often  bare- 
foot, even  barebacked,  with  sinews  of  iron,  who  require  only 
bread  and  gunpowder;  very  sons  of  fire,  the  adroitest,  hastiest, 
hottest  ever  seen,  perhaps,  since  Attila's  time." 

Such  phalanxed  masses  of  fighters  did  the  Carmagnoles  ulti- 
mately become;  but  France  ran  a  fearful  risk  in  being  obliged  to 
rely  on  them,  when  the  process  of  their  transmutation  had  barely 
commenced. 

The  first  events,  indeed,  of  the  war  were  disastrous  and  dis- 
graceful to  France,  even  beyond  what  might  have  been  expected 
from  the  chaotic  state  in  which  it  found  her  armies  as  well  as  her 
government.  In  the  hopes  of  profiting  by  the  unprepared  state 
of  Austria,  then  the  mistress  of  the  Netherlands,  the  French 
opened  the  campaign  of  1792,  by  an  invasion  of  Flanders,  with 
forces  whose  muster-rolls  showed  a  numerical  overwhelming  su- 
periority to  the  enemy,  and  seemed  to  promise  a  speedy  conquest 
of  that  old  battle-field  of  Europe.  But  the  first  flash  of  an  Aus- 
trian sabre  or  the  first  sound  of  an  Austrian  gun,  was  enough  to 
discomfit  the  French.  Their  first  corps,  four  thousand  strong, 
that  advanced  from  Lille  across  the  frontier,  came  suddenly  upon 
a  far  inferior  detachment  of  the  Austrian  garrison  of  Tournay. 
Not  a  shot  was  fired,  nor  a  bayonet  leveled.  With  one  simultaneous 
cry  of  Panic,  the  French  broke  and  ran  headlong  back  to  Lille, 
where  they  completed   the  specimen   of  insubordination   which 

•  Lamartlne.  t  Carlyla. 


272  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

they  had  given  in  the  fieki  by  murdering  their  general  and  several 
of  their  chief  officers.  On  the  same  day,  another  division  under 
Biron,  mustering  ten  thousand  sabres  and  bayonets,  saw  a  few 
Austrian  skirmishers  reconnoitering  their  position.  The  French 
advanced  posts  had  scarcely  given  and  received  a  volley,  and  only 
a  few  balls  from  the  enemy's  field-pieces  had  fallen  among  the 
lines,  when  two  regiments  of  French  dragoons  raised  t)ie  cry 
"We  are  betrayed,"  galloped  off,  and  were  followed  in  disgraceful 
rout  by  the  rest  of  the  whole  army.  Similar  panics,  or  repulses 
almost  equally  discreditable,  occurred  whenever  Eochambeau,  or 
Luckner,  or  La  Fayette,  the  earliest  French  generals  in  the  war, 
brought  their  troops  into  the  presence  of  the  enemy. 

Meanwhile  the  allied  sovereigns  had  gradually  collected  on  the 
Rhine  a  veteran  and  finely-disciplined  army  for  the  invasion  of 
France,  which  for  numbers,  equipment,  and  martial  renown,  both 
of  generals  and  men,  was  equal  to  any  that  Germany  had  ever 
sent  forth  to  conquer.  Their  design  was  to  strike  boldly  and 
decisively  at  the  heart  of  France,  and,  penetrating  the  country 
through  the  Ardennes,  to  proceed  by  Chalons  upon  Paris.  The 
obstacles  that  lay  in  their  way  seemed  insignificant.  The  disor- 
der and  imbecility  of  the  French  armies  had  been  even  augmented 
by  the  forced  flight  of  La  Fayette  and  a  sudden  change  of  generals. 
The  only  troops  posted  on  or  near  the  track  by  which  the  allies 
were  about  to  advance  were  the  23,000  men  at  Sedan,  whom  La 
Fayette  had  commanded,  and  a  corps  of  20,000  near  Metz,  the 
command  of  which  had  just  been  transferred  from  Luckner  to 
Kellerman.  There  were  only  three  fortresses  which  it  was  neces- 
sary for  the  allies  to  capture  or  mask— Sedan,  Longwy,  and  Verdun. 
The  defenses  and  stores  of  all  these  three  were  known  to  be 
wretchedly  dismantled  and  insufficient;  and  when  once  these 
feeble  barriers  were  overcome  and  Chalons  reached,  a  fertile  and 
unprotected  country  seemed  to  invite  the  invaders  to  that  "mili- 
tary promenade  to  Paris  "  which  they  gayly  talked  of  accomplish- 
ing. 

At  the  end  of  July,  the  allied  army,  having  fully  completed 
all  preparations  for  the  campaign,  broke  up  from  its  cantonments, 
and,  marching  from  Luxembourg  upon  Longwy,  crossed  the 
French  frontier.  Sixty  thousand  Prussians,  trained  in  the  schools, 
and  many  of  them  under  the  eye  of  the  Great  Frederic,  heirs  of 
the  glories  of  the  Seven  Years'  War,  and  universally  esteemed  the 
best  troops  in  Europe,  marched  in  one  column  against  the  central 
point  of  attack.  Forty-five  thousand  Austrians,  the  greater  part 
of  whom  were  picked  troops,  and  had  served  in  the  recent  Turkish 
war,  supplied  two  formidable  corps  that  supported  the  flanks  of 
the  Prussians.  There  was  also  a  powerful  body  of  Hessians;  and 
leagued  with  the  Germans  against  the  Parisian  democracy  came 
15,000  of  the  noblest  and  the  bravest  among  the  sons  of  France. 
In  these  aorps  of  emigrants,  many  of  the  highest  born  of  the  French 


BATTLE  OF  VALJfY.  273 

nobility,  scions  of  houses  whose  chivalric  trophies  had  for  centn- 
ries  filled  Europe  with  renown,  served  as  rank  and  file.  They 
looked  on  the  road  to  Paris  as  the  path  which  they  were  to  carve 
out  by  their  swords  to  victory,  to  honor,  to  the  rescue  of  their 
king,  to  reunion  with  their  families,  to  the  recovery  of  their  patri- 
,  mony,  and  to  the  restoration  of  their  order.* 

Over  this  imposing  army  the  allied  sovereigns  placed  as  gener- 
alissimo the  Duke  of  Brunswick,  one  of  the  minor  reigning  princes 
of  Germany,  a  statesman  of  no  mean  capacity,  and  who  had  acquir- 
ed in  the  Seven  Years'  "War  a  military  reputation  second  only  to 
that  of  the  Great  Frederic  himself.  He  had  been  deputed  a  few 
years  before  to  quell  the  pojjular  movements  which  then  took 
place  in  Holland,  and  he  had  put  down  the  attempted  revolution 
in  that  country  with  a  promptitude  which  appeared  to  augur  equal 
siiccess  to  the  army  that  now  marched  under  his  orders  on  a  simi- 
lar mission  into  France. 

Moving  majestically  forward,  with  leisurely  deliberation,  that 
seemed  to  show  the  consciousness  of  superior  strength,  and  a 
steady  purpose  of  doing  their  work  thoroughly,  the  allies  appear- 
ed before  Long^vy  on  the  20th  of  August,  and  the  dispirited  and 
despondent  garrison  opened  the  gates  of  that  fortress  to  them 
after  the  first  shower  of  bombs.  On  the  2d  of  September,  the  still 
more  important  stronghold  of  Verdun  capitulated  after  scarcely  the 
shadow  of  resistance. 

Brunswick's  superior  force  was  now  interposed  between  Keller- 
man's  troops  on  the  left  and  the  other  French  army  near  Sedan, 
which  La  Fayette's  flight  had,  for  a  time,  left  destitute  of  a  com- 
mander. It  was  in  the  power  of  the  German  general,  by  striking 
with  an  over^vhelming  mass  to  the  right  and  left,  to  crush  in  suc- 
cession each  of  these  weak  armies,  and  the  allies  might  then  have 
marched  irrisistibly  and  unresisted  upon  Paris.  But  at  this  crisis 
Dumouriez,  the  new  commander-in-chief  of  the  French,  arrived  at 
the  camp  near  Sedan,  and  commenced  a  series  of  movements  by 
which  he  reunited  the  dispersed  and  disorganized  forces  of  hia 
country,  checked  the  Prussian  columns  at  the  very  moment  when 
tbe  last  obstacle  to  their  triumph  seemed  to  have  given  way,  and 
finally  rolled  back  tht,  tide  of  invasion  far  across  the  enemy's 
frontier. 

The  French  fortresses  had  fallen;  but  nature  herself  still  offered 
to  brave  and  vigorous  defenders  of  the  land  the  means  of  opposing 
a  barrier  to  the  progress  of  the  allies.  A  ridge  of  broken  ground, 
called  the  Argonne,  extends  from  the  vicinity  of  Sedan  toward  the 
southwest  for  about  fifteen  or  sixteen  leagues.  The  country  of  L' 
Argonne  has  now  been  cleared  and  drained;  but  in  1792'it  was 
thickly  Mooded,  and  the  lower  portions  of  its  unequal  surface  were 
filled  with  rivulets  and  marshes.  It  thus  presented  a  natural  barrier 

*  See  Scott, '.'  Lite  of  Napoleon,"  vol.  1.,  c.  xl. 


274  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

of  from  four  or  five  leagues  broad,  which  was  absolutely  impene- 
trable to  an  army,  except  by  a  few  defiles,  such  as  an  inferior  force 
might  easily  lortify  and  defend.  Dumouriez  succeeded  in  marching 
his  army  from  Sedan  behind  the  Argonne,  and  in  occupying  its 
passes,  while  the  Prussians  still  lingered  on  the  northeastern  side 
of  the  forest  line.  Ordering  Kellerman  to  wheel  round  from  Metz  to 
St.  Menehould,  and  the  re-enforcements  from  the  interior  and  ex- 
treme north  also  to  concentrate  at  that  spot,  Dumouriez  trusted  to  as- 
semble a  powerful  force  in  the  rear  of  the  southwest  extremity  of 
the  Argonne,  while  with  the  twenty-five  thousand  men  under  his 
immediate  command  he  held  the  enemy  at  bay  before  the  passes, 
or  forced  him  to  a  long  circumvolution  round  one  extremity  of  the 
forest  ridge  during  which,  favorable  opportunities  of  assailing  his 
flank  were  almost  certain  to  occur.  Dumouriez  fortified  the  prin- 
cipal defiles,  and  boasted  of  the  Thermopylae  which  he  had  found 
for  the  invaders;  but  the  simile  was  nearly  rendered  fat  illy  com- 
plete for  the  defen  ling  force.  A  pass,  which  was  thought  of  inferior 
importance,  had  been  but  slightly  manned,  and  an  Austrian  corps, 
under  Clairfayt,  forced  it  after  some  sharp  fighting.  Dumouriez 
with  great  difficulty  saved  himself  from  being  enveloped  and  des- 
troyed by  the  hostile  columns  that  now  pushed  through  the  forest. 
But  instead  of  despairing  at  the  failure  of  his  plans,  and  falling 
back  into  the  interior,  to  be  completely  severed  from  Kellerman's 
army,  to  be  hunted  as  a  fugitive  under  the  walla  of  Paris  by  the 
victorious  Germans,  and  to  lose  all  chance  of  ever  rallying  his  dis- 
pirited troops,  he  resolved  to  cling  to  the  difficult  country  in 
which  the  armies  still  were  grouped,  to  force  a  junction  with  Keller- 
man  and  so  to  place  himself  at  the  head  of  a  force  which  the  invaders 
would  not  dare  to  disregard,  and  by  which  he  might  drag  them  back 
from  the  advance  on  Paris,which  he  had  not  been  able  to  bar.  Accord- 
ingly, by  a  rapid  movement  to  the  south,  during  which, in  his  own 
words,  "  France  was  within  a  hair's  breath  of  destruction,"  and 
after  with  difficulty  checking  several  panics  of  his  troops,  in  which 
they  ran  by  thousands  at  the  sight  of  a  few  Prussian  hussars,  Du- 
mouriez succeeded  in  establishing  head-quarters  in  a  strong  posi- 
tion at  St.  Menehould,  protected  by  the  marshes  and  shallows  of 
the  rivers  Aisne  and  Aube,  beyond  which,  to  the  northwest,  rose  a 
firm  and  elevated  plateau,  called  Dampiere's  camp,  admirably  situ- 
ated for  commanding  the  road  by  Chalons  to  Paris,  and  where  he 
intended  to  post  Kellerman's  army  so  soon  as  it  came  up.* 

The  news  of  the  retreat  of  Dumouriez  from  the  Argonne  passes, 
and  of  the  panic  flight  of  some  divisions  of  his  troops,  spread  rap- 
idly throughout  the  country,  and  Kellerman,  who  believed  that  his 

•  Some  late  writers  represent  that  Brunswick  did  not  wish  to  crush  Du- 
mouriez. There  is  no  sufficient  authority  ior  this  Insinuation,  wWch  seems 
to  have  been  Urst  prompted  by  a  desire  to  soothe  the  wounded  mlUtary 
pride  of  the  Prussians. 


BATTLE  OF  VALMT.  275 

comrade's  army  had  been  annihilated,  and  feared  to  fall  amongthe 
victorious  masses  of  the  Prussians,  had  halted  on  his  march  from 
Metz  when  almost  close  to  St.  Menehould.  He  had  actually  com- 
menced a  retrogade  movement,  when  couriers  from  his  commander- 
in-chief  checked  him  from  the  fatal  course:  and  then  continuing  to 
wheel  round  the  rear  and  left  flank  of  the  troops  at  St.  Menehould, 
Kellerman,  with  twenty  thousand  of  the  army  of  Metz,  and 
some  thousands  of  volunteers,  who  had  joined  him  in  the  march, 
made  his  appearance  to  the  west  of  Dumouriez  on  the  very  even- 
ing when  Westerman  and  Thouvenot,  two  of  tne  staff  ofhcers  of  Du- 
mouriez, galloped  in  with  the  tidings  that  Brunswick's  army  had 
come  through  the  upper  passes  of  the  Argonne  in  full  force  and  was 
deploying  on  the  heights  of  La  Lune,  a  chain  of  eminences  that 
stretched  obliquely  from  southwest  to  northeast,  opposite  the  high 
ground  which  Dumouriez  held,  also  opposite,  biit  at  a  shorter  dis- 
tance from  the  position  which  Kellerman  was  designed  to  occupy. 

The  allies  were  now,  in  fact,  nearer  to  Paris  than  were  the  French 
troops  themselves  ;  but,  as  Dumouriez  had  foreseen,  Brunswick 
deemed  it  unsafe  to  march  upon  the  cajjital  with  so  large  a  hostile 
force  left  in  his  rear,  between  his  advancing  columns  and  his  base 
of  operations.  The  young  king  of  Prussia,  who  was  in  the  allied 
camp,  and  the  emigrant  princes,  eagerly  advocated  an  instant  attack 
upon  the  nearest  French  general.  Kellerman  had  laid  himself 
unnecessarily  open,  by  advancing  beyond  Dampierre's  camp,  which 
Dumouriez  had  designed  for  him,  and  moving  forward  across  the 
Aube  to  the  plateau  of  Valmy,  a  post  inferior  in  strength  and  space 
to  that  which  he  had  left,  and  which  brought  him  close  upon  the 
Prussian  lines,  leaving  him  separated  by  a  dangerous  interval  from 
the  troops  under  Dumouritz  himself.  It  seemed  easy  for  the  Prus- 
sian army  to  overwhelm  him  while  thus  isolated,  and  then  they 
might  surround  and  crush  Dumouriez  at  their  leisure. 

Accordingly,  the  right  wing  of  the  allied  army  moved  forward  in 
the  gray  of  the  morning  of  the  20th  of  September,  to  gain  Keller- 
man's  left  flank  and  rear,  and  cut  him  off  from  retreat  upon  Cha- 
lons, while  the  rest  of  the  army,  moving  from  the  heights  of  La 
Lune,  which  here  converge  semicircularly  round  the  plateau  of 
Valmy,  were  to  assail  his  position  in  front,  and  interpose  between 
him  and  Dumouriez.  An  unexpected  collision  between  some  of 
the  advanced  cavalry  on  each  side  in  the  low  ground  warned  Kel- 
lerman of  the  enemy's  approach.  Dumouriez  had  not  been  unob- 
servant of  the  danger  of  his  comrade,  thus  isolated  and  involved, 
and  he  had  ordered  up  troops  to  support  Kellerman  on  either  flank 
in  the  event  of  his  being  attacked.  These  troops,  however,  moved 
forward  slowly  ;  and  Kellerman's  arm  ranged  on  the  plateau  of 
Valmy,  "projected  like  a  cape  into  the  midst  of  the  lines  of  Prus- 
sian bayonets."*     A  thick  autumnal  mist  floated  in  waves  of  vapor 

•  See  Lamartlne,  Hist.  Glrond.,  livre  xvU.  I  have  drawn  much  of  the  em 
suin^  descrtptlou  Irom  him . 


276  DECISIVE  SATTLES. 

over  the  plains  and  ravines  that  lay  between  the  two  armies,  leav- 
ing only  the  crests  and  peaks  of  the  hills  glittering  in  the  early 
light.  About  ten  o'clock  the  fog  began  to  clear  otf,  and  then  the 
French  from  their  promontory  saw  emerging  from  the  white  wreaths 
of  mist,  and  glittering  in  the  sunshine,  the  countless  Pi^nssian  cav- 
alry, which  were  to  enveloii  them  as  in  a  net  if  once  driven  from 
their  position,  the  solid  columns  of  the  infantry,  that  moved  for 
ward  as  if  animated  by  a  single  will,  the  bristling  batteries  of  the 
artillery,  and  the  glancing  clouds  of  the  Austrian  light  troops,  fresh 
from  their  contests  with  the  Spahis  of  the  east. 

The  best  and  bravest  of  the  French  must  have  beheld  this  spec- 
tacle with  secret  apprehension  and  awe.  However  bold  and  resolute 
a  man  may  be  in  the  discharge  of  duty,  it  is  an  anxious  and  fearfi;l 
thing  to  be  called  on  to  encounter  danger  among  comrades  of  whose 
steadiness  you  can  feel  no  certainty.  Each  soldier  of  Kellerman's 
Army  must  have  remembered  the  series  of  panic  routs  which  had 
hitherto  invariably  taken  place  on  the  French  side  during  the  war, 
and  must  have  cast  restless  glances  to  the  right  and  left  to  see  if 
any  symi:)toms  of  wavering  began  to  show  themselves,  and  to  cal- 
culate how  long  it  was  likely  to  be  before  a  general  rush  of  his 
comrades  to  the  rear  woTild  either  hurry  him  off  with  involuntary 
disgrace,  or  leave  him  alone  and  heljiless  to  be  cut  down  by  assail- 
ing multitudes. 

On  that  very  morning,  and  at  the  self-same. hour  in  which  the 
allied  forces  and  the  emigrants  began  to  descend  from  La  Lune  to 
the  attack  of  Valmy,  and  while  the  cannonade  was  opening  between 
the  Prussian  and  the  Revolutionary  batteries,  the  debate  in  the 
National  Convention  at  Paris  commenced  on  the  proposal  to  pro- 
claim France  a  republic. 

The  old  monarchy  had  little  chance  of  support  in  the  hall  of  the 
Convention  ;  but  if  its  more  effective  advocates  at  Valmy  had  tri- 
umphed, there  were  yet  the  elements  existing  in  France  for  an 
effective  revival  of  the  better  part  of  the  ancient  institutions,  and 
for  siabstituting  Eeform  for  Revolution.  Only  a  few  weeks  before, 
numerously-signed  addresses  from  the  middle  classes  in  Paris, 
Rouen,  and  other  large  cities,  had  been  presented  to  the  king,  ex- 
pressive of  their  horror  of  the  anarchists,  and  their  readiness  to 
uphold  the  rights  of  the  crown,  together  with  the  liberties  of  the 
subject.  And  an  armed  resistance  to  the  authority  of  the  Conven- 
tion, and  in  favor  of  the  king,  was  in  reality  at  this  time  being 
actively  organized  in  La  Vendee  and  Brittany,  the  importance  of 
which  may  be  estimated  from  the  formidable  opposition  which  the 
Royalists  of  these  provinces  made  to  the  Republican  party  at  a  later 
period,  and  under  much  more  disadvantageoiis  circumstances.  It 
is  a  f.ict  peculiarly  illustrative  of  the  importance  of  the  battle  of 
Valmy,  that  "during  the  summer  of  1792,  the  gentlemen  of  Brittany 
entered  into  an  extensive  association  for  the  purpose  of  rescuing 
the  country  from  the  oppressive  yoke  which  had  been  imposed  by 


BATTLE  OF  VALMr.  277 

the  Parisian  demagogues.  At  the  head  of  the  whole  was  the  Mar- 
quis de  la  Rouarie,  one  of  those  remarkable  men  who  rise  into 
eminence  during  the  stormy  days  of  a  revolution,  from  conscious 
ability  to  direct  its  current.  Ardent,  imiDetuous  and  enthusiastic, 
he  was  first  distinguished  in  the  Anerican  war,  when  the  intrepid- 
ity of  his  conduct  attracted  the  admiration  of  the  Republican  troops, 
and  the  same  qualities  rendered  him  at  first  an  ardent  supporter  of 
the  Revolution  in  France  ;  but  when  the  atrocities  of  the  people 
began,  he  espoused  with  equal  warmth  the  opposite  side,  and  used 
the  utmost  etforts  to  rouse  the  noblesse  of  Brittany  against  the 
plebeian  yoke  which  had  been  imposed  upon  them  by  the  National 
Assembly.  He  submitted  his  plan  to  the  Count  d'Artois,  and  had 
organized  one  so  extensive  as  would  have  proved  extremely  formid- 
able to  the  Convention,  if  the  retreat  of  the  Duke  of  Bruns^sdck, 
in  September,  1792,  had  not  damped  the  ardor  of  the  whole  of  the 
west  of  France,  then  ready  to  break  out  into  insurrection."* 

And  it  was  not  only  among  the  zealots  of  the  old  monarchy  that 
the  cause  of  the  king  would  then  have  found  friends.  The  inefi"a- 
ble  atrocities  of  the  September  massacres  had  just  occurred,  and 
the  reaction  produced  by  them  among  thousands  who  had  previously 
been  active  on  the  ultra-democratic  side  was  fresh  and  powerful. 
The  nobility  had  not  yet  been  made  utter  aliens  in  the  eyes  of  the 
nation  by  long  expatriation  and  civil  war.  There  was  not  yet  a  gen- 
eration of  youth  educated  in  revolutionary  principles,  and  knowing 
no  worship  save  that  of  military  glory.  Louis  XVI.  was  just  and 
humane,  and  deeply  sensible  of  the  necessity  of  a  gradual  exten- 
sion of  political  rights  among  all  classes  of  his  subjects.  The 
Bourbon  throne,  if  rescued  in  1792,  would  have  had  the  chances  of 
stability  such  as  did  not  exist  for  it  in  1814,  and  seem  never  likely 
to  be  found  again  in  France. 

Serving  under  Kellerman  on  that  day  was  one  who  experienced, 
perhaps  the  most  deeply  of  all  men,  the  changes  for  good  and  for 
evil  which  the  French  Revolution  has  produced.  He  who,  in  his 
second  exile,  bore  the  name  of  the  Count  de  Neuilly  in  this  coun- 
try, and  who  lately  was  Louis  Philippe,  king  of  the  French,  figured 
in  the  French  lines  at  Valmy  as  a  young  and  gallant  officer,  cool 
and  sagacious  beyond  his  years,  and  trusted  accordingly  by  Kel- 
lerman and  Dumouriez  with  an  important  station  in  the  national 
army.  The  Due  dc  Chartres  (the  title  he  then  bore)  commanded 
the  French  right,  General  Valence  was  on  the  l-ft,  and  Kellerman 
himself  took  his  post  in  the  center,  which  was  the  strength  and  key 
of  his  position. 

Besides  these  celebrated  men  who  were  in  the  French  army,  and 
besides  the  King  of  Prussia,  the  Duke  of  Brunswick,  and  other 
men  of  rank  and  power  who  were  in  the  lines  of  the  allies,  there 
was  an  individual  present  at  the  battle  of  Valmy,  of  little  political 

*  All5«n,  VOL  lU.,  p.  323. 


278  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

note,  bnt  who  has  exercised,  and  exercises  a  greater  influence  over 
the  human  mind,  and  whose  fame  is  more  widely  spread  than  that 
of  either  duke,  or  general,  or  king.  This  was  the  German  poet  Gothe, 
then  in  early  youth,  and  who  had,  out  of  curiosity,  accompanied 
the  allied  army  on  its  march  into  France  as  a  mere  spectator.  He 
has  given  us  a  curious  record  of  the  sensations  which  he  experi- 
enced during  the  cannonade.  It  must  be  remembered  that  many 
thousands  in  the  French  ranks  then,  like  Gothe,  felt  the  "cannon 
fever"  for  the  first  time.     The  German  poet  says,* 

"I  had  ho/ird  so  much  of  the  cannon  fever,  that  I  wanted  to  know 
what  kind  of  a  thing  it  was.  Ennui,  and  a  spirit  which  every  kind 
of  danger  excites  to  daring,  nay,  even  to  rashness,  induced  me  to 
ride  up  coolly  to  the  outwork  of  La  Lune.  This  was  again  occupied 
by  our  people  ;  but  it  presented  the  wildest  aspect.  The  roofs  were 
shot  to  pieces,  the  corn-shocks  scattered  about,  the  bodies  of  men 
mortally  wounded  stretched  upon  them  here  and  there,  and  occa- 
sionally a  spent  cannon  ball  fell  and  rattled  among  the  ruins  of  the 
tile  roofs. 

"Quite  alone,  and  left  to  myself,  I  rode  away  on  the  heights  to 
the  left,  and  could  plainly  svirvey  the  favorable  position  of  the 
French  ;  they  were  standing  in  the  form  of  a  semicircle,  in  the 
greatest  quiet  and  security,  Kellerman,  then  on  the  left  wing,  be- 
ing the  easiest  to  reach. 

"  I  fell  in  with  good  company  on  the  way,  officers  of  my  acquaint- 
ance, belonging  to  the  general  staff  and  the  regiment,  greatly  sur- 
prised to  find  me  here.  They  wanted  to  take  me  back  again  with 
them  ;  but  I  spoke  to  them  of  particular  objects  I  had  in  view,  and 
they  left  me,  without  farther  dissuasion,  to  my  well-known  singu- 
lar caprice. 

"I  had  now  arrived  quite  in  the  region  where  the  balls  were 
playing  across  me  :  the  sound  of  them  is  curious  enough,  as  if  it 
were  composed  of  the  humming  of  tops,  the  gurgling  of  water, 
and  the  whistling  of  birds.  They  were  less  dangerous  by  reason 
of  the  wetness  of  the  ground  ;  wherever  one  fell,  it  stuck  fast. 
And  thus  my  foolish  experimental  ride  was  secured  against  the 
danger  at  least  of  the  balls  rebounding. 

"  In  the  midst  of  these  circumstances,  I  was  soon  able  to  re- 
mark that  something  unusual  was  taking  place  within  me.  I  paid 
close  attention  to  it,  and  still  the  sensation  can  be  described  only 
by  similitude.  It  appeared  as  if  you  were  in  some  extremely  hot 
place,  and,  at  the  same  time,  quite  penetrated  by  the  heat  of  it,  so 
that  you  feel  yourself,  as  it  were,  quite  one  with  the  element  in 
which  you  are.  The  eyes  lose  nothing  of  their  strength  or  clear- 
ness ;  but  it  is  as  if  the  world  had  a  kind  of  brown-red  tint, 
which  makes  the  situation,  as  well  as  the  surrounding  objects, 
more  impressive.     I  was  unable  to  perceive  any  a'j;itation  of  the 

♦  GOthe'B  "  Campaign  In  France  in  1T92,"  Farte's  translation,  p.  77. 


BATTLE  OF  VALMY.  279 

blood  ;  bnt  erery  thing  seemed  rather  to  be  swallowed  np  in  the 
glow  of  which  I  speak.  From  this,  then,  it  is  clear  in  what  sense 
this  condition  can  be  called  a  fever.  It  is  remarkable,  however, 
that  the  horrible  uneasy  feeling  arising  from  it  is  produced  in  us 
solely  through  the  ears.  For  the  cannon  thunder,  the  howling 
and  crashing  of  the  balls  through  the  air,  is  the  real  cause  of  these 
sensations. 

"After  I  had  ridden  back  and  was  in  perfect  security,  I  remark- 
ed, with  surprise,  that  the  glow  was  completely  extinguished,  and 
not  the  slightest  feverish  agitation  was  left  behind.  On  the  whole, 
this  condition  is  one  of  the  least  desirable  ;  as,  indeed,  among  my 
dear  and  noble  comrades,  I  found  scarcely  one  who  expressed  a 
really  passionate  desire  to  try  it." 

Contrary  to  the  expectations  of  both  friends  and  foes,  the  French 
infantry  held  their  ground  steadily  under  the  fire  of  the  Prussian 
guns,  which  thundered  on  them  from  La  Lune,  and  their  own  ar- 
tillery replied  with  equal  spirit  and  greater  efi"ect  on  the  denser 
masses  of  the  allied  army.  Thinking  that  the  Prussians  were 
slackening  in  their  fire,  Kellerman  formed  a  column  in  charging 
order,  and  dashed  down  into  the  valley  in  the  hopes  of  capturing 
some  of  the  nearest  guns  of  the  enemy.  A  masked  battery  opened 
its  fire  on  the  French  column,  and  drove  it  back  in  disorder,  Kel- 
lerman  having  his  horse  shot  under  him,  and  being  with  diflSculty 
carried  off  by  his  men.  The  Prussian  columns  now  advanced  in 
turn.  The  French  artillery-men  began  to  waver  and  desert  their 
posts,  but  were  rallied  by  the  efforts  and  example  of  their  officers, 
and  Kellerman,  reorganizing  the  line  of  his  infantry,  took  his 
station  in  the  ranks  on  foot,  and  called  out  to  his  men  to  let  the 
enemy  come  close  up,  and  then  to  charge  them  with  the  bayonet. 
The  troops  caiight  the  enthusiasm  of  their  general,  and  a  cheerful 
shout  of  Vive  la  nation,  taken  up  by  one  battalion  from  another 
pealed  across  the  valley  to  the  assailants.  The  Prussians  hesitated 
from  a  charge  up  hill  against  a  force  that  seemed  so  resolute  and 
formidable  ;  they  halted  for  a  while  in  the  hollow,  and  then  slow- 
ly retreated  up  their  own  side  of  the  valley. 

Indignant  at  being  thus  repulsed  by  such  a  foe,  the  King  of 
Prussia  formed  the  flower  of  his  men  in  person,  and,  riding  along 
the  column,  bitterly  reproached  them  with  letting  their  standard 
be  thus  humiliated.  Then  he  led  them  on  again  to  the  attack, 
marching  in  the  front  line,  and  seeing  his  staff  mowed  down 
around  him  by  the  deadly  fire  which  the  French  artillery  reopened. 
But  the  troops  sent  by  Dumouriez  were  now  co-operating  effectu- 
ally with  Kellerman,  and  tliat  general's  own  men,  flushed  by  suc- 
cess, presented  a  firmer  front  than  ever.  Again  the  Prussians  re- 
treated, leaving  eight  hundred  dead  behind,  and  at  nightfall  the 
French  remained  victors  on  the  heights  of  Valmy. 

All  hopes  of  crushing  the  Revolutionary  aimies,  and  of  tha 
promenade  to  Paris,  had  now  vanished,  though  Brunswick  lin- 


280  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

gered  long  in  the  Argonne,  till  distress  and  sickness  wasted  away 
his  once  splendid  force,  and  finally  but  a  mere  wreck  of  it  re- 
crossed  the  frontier.  France,  meanwhile,  felt  that  she  possessed 
a  giant's  strength,  and  like  a  giant  did  she  use  it.  Before  the 
close  of  that  year  all  Belgium  obeyed  the  National  Convention  at 
Paris,  and  the  kings  of  Europe,  after  the  lapse  of  eighteen  centu- 
ries, trembled  once  more  before  a  conquering  military  republic. 

Gothe's  descrijjtion  of  the  cannonade  has  been  quoted.  His  ob- 
servation to  his  comrades,  and  the  camp  of  the  allies  at  the  end  of 
the  battle,  deserves  quotation  also.  It  shows  that  the  poet  felt 
(and  probably  he  alone,  of  the  thousands  there  assembled,  felt) 
the  full  importance  of  that  day.  He  describes  the  consternation 
and  the  change  of  demeanor  which  he  observed  among  his  Prus- 
sian friends  that  evening.  He  tells  us  that  "most  of  them  were 
silent ;  and,  in  fact,  the  power  of  reflection  and  judgment  was 
wanting  to  all.  At  last  I  was  called  upon  to  say  what  I  thought  of 
the  engagement,  for  I  had  been  in  the  habit  of  enlivening  and 
amusing  the  troop  with  short  sayings.  This  time  I  said,  '  From 
this  pfaoe  and  from  this  dag  forth  commences  a  new  era  in  the  world's 
history,  and  you  can  all  say  that  you  were  present  at  Us  birth,'" 


Synopsis  of  Events  between  the  Battle  of  V-^lmt,  a.d.  1792,  and 
THE  Battle  of  Wateeloo,  a.d.  1815, 

A.D.  1793.  Trial  and  execution  of  Louis  XVI.  at  Paris.  Eng- 
land and  Spain  declare  war  against  France.  Royalist  war  in  La 
Vendee.     Second  invasion  of  France  by  the  allies. 

1794.  Lord  Howe's  victory  over  the  French  fleet.  Final  parti- 
tion of  Poland  by  Eiissia,  Prussia,  and  Austria. 

1795.  The  French  armies,  under  Pichegru,  conquer  Holland. 
Cessation  of  the  war  in  La  Vendee. 

1796.  Bonaparte  commands  the  French  army  of  Italy,  and  gains 
repeated  victories  over  the  Austrians. 

1797.  Victory  of  Jervis  off  Cape  St.  Vincent.  Peace  of  Campo 
Formio  between  France  and  Austria.  Defeat  of  the  Dutch  off 
Camj^erdown  by  Admiral  Duncan. 

1798.  Eebellion  in  Ireland.  Expedition  of  the  French  under 
Bonaparte  to  Egypt.  Lord  Nelson  destroys  the  French  fleet  at 
the  battle  of  the  Nile. 

1799.  Eenewal  of  the  war  between  Austria  and  France.  The 
Eussian  emperor  sends  an  army  in  aid  of  Austria  under  Suwarrow. 
The  French  aro  repeatedly  defeated  in  Italy.  Bonaparte  returns 
fr  )m  Egypt  and  makes  himself  First  Consul  of  Fnince.  Massena 
wins  the  battle  of  Zurich.  The  Russian  emperor  makes  peace 
with  France. 


SYNOPSIS  OF  EVENTS,  ETC.  281 

1800.  EoP.aparte  passes  the  Alps,  and  defeats  the  Austrians  at 
Marengo.     Moreau  wins  the  battle  of  Hohenlinden. 

1801.  Trsaty  of  Luneville  between  France  and  Austria.  The 
tattle  of  Copenhagen. 

1802.  Peace  of  Amiens. 

1803.  War  between  England  and  France  renewed. 

1804.  Napoleon  Bonaparte  is  made  Emperor  of  France. 

1805.  Great  preparations  of  Napoleon  to  invade  England.  Aus- 
tria, supported  by  Russia,  renews  war  with  France.  Napoleon 
marches  into  German}^,  takes  Vienna,  and  gains  the  battle  of 
Austerlitz.  Lord  Nelson  destroys  the  combined  French  and  Span- 
ish fleets,  and  is  killed  at  the  battle  of  Trafalgar. 

1806.  War  between  Prussia  and  France.  Napoleon  conquers 
Prussia  at  the  battle  of  Jena. 

1807.  Obstinate  warfare  between  the  French  and  Prussian  arm- 
ies in  East  Prussia  and  Poland.    Peace  of  Tilsit. 

1808.  Napoleon  endeavors  to  make  his  brother  King  of  Spain. 
Eising  of  the  Spanish  nation  against  him.  England  sends  troops 
to  aid  the  Spaniards.     Battle  of  Vimiera  and  Corunna. 

1809.  War  renewed  between  France  and  Austria.  Battles  of 
Aspeme  and  Wagram.  Peace  granted  to  Austria.  Li  ri  Wel- 
lington's victory  of  Talavera,  in  Spain. 

1810.  Marriage  of  Napoleon  and  the  Archduchess  Maria  Louisa. 
Holland  annexed  to  France. 

1812.  War  between  England  and  the  United  States.  Napoleon 
invades  Russia.  Battle  of  Borodino.  The  French  occupy  Mos- 
cow, which  is  burned.  Disastrous  retreat  and  almost  total  de- 
struction of  the  great  army  of  France. 

1813.  Prussia  and  Austria  take  up  arms  again  against  France. 
Battles  of  Lutzen,  Bautzen,  Dresden,  Culm,  and  Leipsic.  The 
French  are  driven  out  of  Germany.  Lord  Wellington  gains  the 
great  battle  of  Vittoria,  which  completes  the  rescue  of  Spain  from 
France. 

1814.  The  allies  invade  France  on  the  eastern,  and  Lord  Wel- 
lington inv.ides  it  on  the  southern  frontier.  Battles  of  Laon, 
Montmirail,  Arcis-sur  Aube,  and  others  in  the  northeast  of  France; 
and  of  Toulouse  in  the  south.  Paris  surrenders  to  the  allies,  and 
Napoleon  abdicates.  First  restoration  of  the  Bourbons.  Napo- 
leon goes  to  the  Isle  of  Elba,  which  is  assigned  to'him  bj-  the  al- 
lies.   Treaty  of  Ghent  between  the  United  States  and  England. 


282  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

CHAPTER  XV. 

BATTLE  OF  WATEELOO.  A.D.  1815. 

Thou  first  and  last  of  fields,  klng-makliig  victory  I— Bteon. 

England  has  now  been  blessed  with  thirty-six  years  of  peace. 
At  no  other  period  of  her  history  can  a  similarly  long  cessation 
from  a  state  of  warfare  be  found.  It  is  true  that  our  troops  have 
had  battles  to  fight  during  this  interval  for  the  protection  and  ex- 
tension of  our  Indian  possessions  and  our  colonies,  butthese  have 
been  with  distant  and  unimportant  enemies.  The  danger  has 
never  been  brought  near  our  own  shores,  and  no  matter  of  vital 
importance  to  our  empire  has  ever  been  at  stake.  We  have  not 
had  hostilities  with  either  France,  America,  or  Russia  ;  and  when 
not  at  war  with  any  of  our  peers,  we  feel  ourselves  to  be  substan- 
tially at  peace.  There  has,  indeed,  throughout  this  long  period, 
been  no  great  war,  like  those  with  which  the  previous  history  of 
modern  Europe  abounds.  There  have  been  formidable  collisions 
between  particular  states,  and  there  have  been  still  more  formid- 
able collisions  between  the  armed  champions  of  the  conflicting 
principles  of  absolutism  and  democracy ;  but  there  has  been  no 
general  war,  like  those  of  the  French  Revolution,  like  the  Ameri- 
can, or  the  Seven  Years'  War,  or  like  the  war  of  the  Spanish  Suc- 
cession. It  would  be  far  too  much  to  augur  from  this  that  no  sim- 
ilar wars  will  again  convulse  the  world;  but  the  value  of  the  period 
of  peace  which  Europe  has  gained  is  incalculable,  even  if  we  look 
on  it  as  only  a  long  truce,  and  expect  again  to  see  the  nations  of 
the  earth  recur  to  what  some  philosophers  have  termed  man's  nat- 
ural state  of  warfare. 

No  equal  number  of  years  can  be  found  during  which  science, 
commerce,  and  civilization  have  advanced  so  rapidly  and  so  ex- 
tensively as  has  been  the  case  since  1815.  When  we  trace  their 
progress,  especially  in  this  country,  it  is  impossible  not  to  feel 
that  their  wondrous  development  has  been  mainly  due  to  the  land 
having  been  at  peace.  *  Their  good  effects  cannot  be  obliterated 
even  if  a  series  of  wars  were  to  recommence.  When  we  reflect 
on  this,  and  contrast  these  thirty-six  years  with  the  period  that 
preceded  them— a  period  of  violence,  of  tumult,  of  unrestingly 
destructive  energy— a  period  throughout  which  the  wealth  of  na- 
tions was  scattered  like  sand,  and  the  blood  of  nations  lavished 
like  water,  it  is  impossible  not  to  look  with  deep  interest  on  the 
final  crisis  of  that  dark  and  dreadful  epoch— the  crisis  out  of 
which  our  own  happier  cycle  of  years  has  been  evolved.     The 


•  ?ee  theexceUent  Introduction  to  Mr.  Charles  Knight's  History  of  "Thirty 
Tears'  Peace." 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO.  283 

great  battle  which  ended  the  twenty-three  years'  war  of  the  first 
French  Revolution,  and  which  quelled  the  man  whose  genius  and 
ambition  had  so  long  disturbed  and  desolated  the  world,  deserves 
to  be  regarded  by  us  not  only  with  peculiar  pride  as  one  of  our 
greatest  national  victories,  but  with  peculiar  gratitude  for  the  re- 
pose which  it  secured  for  us  and  for  the  greater  part  of  the  human 
race. 

One  good  test  for  determining  the  importance  of  "Waterloo  is  to 
ascertain  what  was  felt  by  wise  and  prudent  statesmen  before  that 
battle  respecting  the  return  of  Napoleon  from  Elba  to  the  imperial 
throne  of  France,  and  the  probable  effects  of  his  success.  For 
this  purpose,  I  will  quote  the  words,  not  of  any  of  our  vehement 
anti-Gallican  politicians  of  the  school  of  Pitt,  but  of  a  leader  of 
our  Liberal  party,  of  a  man  whose  reputation  as  a  jurist,  a  histo- 
rian, and  a  far-sighted  and  candid  statesman  was,  and  is,  deserv- 
edly high,  not  only  in  this  country,  but  throughout  Europe.  Sir 
James  Mackintosh  said  of  the  return  from  Elba, 

"Was it  in  the  power  of  language  to  describe  the  evil?  Wars 
which  had  raged  for  more  than  twenty  years  throughout  Europe, 
which  had  spread  blood  and  desolation  from  Cadiz  to  Moscow, 
and  from  Naples  to  Copenhagen  ;  which  had  wasted  the  means  of 
human  enjoyment,  and  destroyed  the  instruments  of  social  im- 
provement ;  which  threatened  to  diffuse  among  the  European  na- 
tions the  dissolute  and  ferocious  habits  of  a  predatory  soldiery — 
at  length,  by  one  of  those  vicissitudes  which  bid  defiance  to  the 
foresight  of  mun,  had  been  brought  to  a  close,  upon  the  whole, 
happy,  beyond  all  reasonable  expectation,  with  no  violent  shock 
to  national  independence,  with  some  tolerable  compromise  be- 
tween the  opinions  of  the  age  and  the  reverence  due  to  ancient 
in.stitutions  ;  with  no  too  signal  or  mortifying  triumph  over  the 
legitimate  interests  or  avowable  feelings  of  any  numerous  body  of 
men,  and,  above  all,  without  those  retaliations  against  nations  or 
parties  which  beget  new  convulsions,  often  as  horrible  as  those 
which  they  close,  and  perpetuate  revenge,  and  hatred,  and  blood 
from  age  to  age.  Europe  seemed  to  breathe  after  her  sufferings. 
In  the  midst  of  this  fair  prospect  and  of  these  consolatory  hopes, 
Napoleon  Bonaparte  escaped  from  Elba  ;  three  small  vessels 
reached  the  coast  of  Provence  ;  their  hopes  are  instantly  dispelled; 
the  work  of  our  toil  and  fortitude  is  undone  ;  the  blood  of  Europe 
is  spilled  in  vain — 

'  Ibl  omnls  effusus  labor  ! ' " 

The  exertions  which  the  allied  powers  made  at  this  crisis  to 
grapple  promptly  with  the  French  emperor  have  truly  been 
termed  gigantic,  and  never  were  Napoleon's  genius  and  activity 
more  signally  displayed  than  in  the  celerity  and  skill  by  which  he 
brought  forward  all  the  military  resourcea  of  France,  which  the 
reveraeg  of  the  three  preeeding  y^sars,  And  tho  paoifio  policj  of 


284  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

tlie  Bourbons  during  the  months  of  their  first  restoration,  had 
greatly  diminished  and  disorganized.  He  re-entered  Paris  on  the 
20th  of  March,  and  by  the  end  of  May,  besides  sending  a  force 
into  La  Vendee  to  put  down  the  armed  risings  of  the  Koyalists  in 
that  province,  and  besides  providing  troops  iinder  Massena  and 
Suchet  for  the  defense  of  the  southern  frontiers  of  France,  Na- 
poleon had  an  army  assembled  in  the  northeast  for  active  opera- 
tions under  his  own  command,  which  amounted  to  between  120 
and  130,000  men,*  with  a  superb  park  of  artillery,  and  in  the 
highest  possible  state  of  equipment,  discipline,  and  efficiency. 

The  ai^i^roach  of  the  many  Russians,  Austrians,  Bavarians,  and 
other  foes  of  the  French  emperor  to  the  Ehine  was  necessarily 
slow  ;  but  the  two  most  active  of  the  allied  powers  had  occupied 
Belgium  with  their  troops  while  Napoleon  was  organizing  his 
forces.  Marshal  Blucher  was  there  with  116,000  Prussians,  and 
the  Duke  of  Wellington  was  there  also  with  about  106,000  troops, 
either  British  or  in  British  pay.f  Napoleon  determined  to  attack 
these  enemies  in  Belgium.  The  disparity  of  numbers  was  indeed 
great,  but  delay  was  sure  to  increase  the  number  of  his  enemies 
much  faster  than  re-enforcements  could  join  his  own  ranks.  He 
considered  also  that  "  the  enemy's  troops  were  cantoned  under 
the  command  of  two  generals,  and  composed  of  nations  differing 
both  in  interest  and  in  feelings."!  His  own  army  was  under  his 
own  sole  command.  It  was  composed  exclusively  of  French  sol- 
diers, mostly  of  veterans,  well  acquainted  with  their  officers  and 
with  each  other,  and  full  of  enthusiastic  confidence  in  their  com- 
mander. If  he  could  separate  the  Prussians  from  the  British,  so 
as  to  attack  each  in  detail,  he  felt  sanguine  of  success,  not  only 
against  these,  the  most  resolute  of  his  many  adversaries,  but  also 
against  the  other  masses  that  were  slowly  laboring  up  against  his 
southeastern  frontiers. 

The  triple  chain  of  strong  fortresses  which  the  French  possessed 
on  the  Belgian  frontier  formed  a  curtain,  behind  which  Napoleon 
was  able  to  concentrate  his  army,  and  to  conceal  till  the  very  last 
moment  the  precise  line  of  attack  which  he  intended  to  take.  On 
the  other  hand,  Blucher  and  Wellington  were  obliged  to  canton 
their  troops  along  a  line  of  open  country  of  considerable  length, 
so  as  to  watch  for  the  outbreak  of  Napoleon  from  whichever  point 
of  his  chain  of  strongholds  he  should  please  to  make  it.  Blucher, 
with  his  army,  occiipied  the  banks  of  the  Sambre  and  the  Meuse, 
from  Liege  on  his  left,  to  Charleroi  on  his  right ;  and  the  Duke  of 
Wellington  covered  Brussels,  his  cantonments  being  partly  in 
front  of  that  city,  and  between  it  and  the  French  frontier,  and 
partly  on  its  west,;  their  extreme  right  being  at   Courtray  and 

*  See,  for  these  niuntoers,  Sltorne's  "History  of  the  Campaign  of  Water- 
loo," vol.  1.,  p.  41.  t  Ibid.,  vol.  i.,  chap.  111. 
t  Montholon's  "Memoirs,"  p. -^6. 


BA  2  TIE  OF  WA  TERL  00.  285 

Tournay,  while  their  left  ai^proached  Charleroiand'.ommiTnicated 
■with  the  Prussian  right.  It  %vas  upon  Charleroi  that  Napoleon 
resolved  to  level  his  attack,  in  hopes  of  severing  the  two  allied 
armies  from  each  other,  and  then  pursuing  his  fivorite  tactic  of 
assailing  each  separately  with  a  superior  force  on  the  battle-field, 
though  the  aggregate  of  their  numbers  considerably  exceeded  his 
own. 

On  the  15th  of  June  the  French  army  was  suddenly  in  motion, 
and  crossed  the  frontier  in  three  cohimns,  which  were  pointed 
upon  Charleroi  and  its  vicinity.  The  French  line  of  advance 
upon  Brussels,  which  city  Napoleon  resolved  to  occupy,  thus  lay 
right  through  the  center  of  the  line  of  the  cantonments  of  the 
allies.  The  Prussian  general  rapidly  concentrated  his  forces,  call- 
ing them  in  from  the  left,  and  the  English  general  concentrated 
his,  calling  them  in  from  the  right  toward  the  menaced  center  of 
the  combined  position.  On  the  morning  of  the  16th,  Blucher  was 
in  position  at  Ligny,  to  the  northeast  of  Charleroi,  with  80,000 
men.  "Wellington's  troops  were  concentrating  at  Quatrc  Bras, 
which  lies  due  north  of  Charleroi,  and  is  about  nine  miles  from 
Ligny.  On  the  16th,  Napoleon  in  person  attacked  Blucher,  and, 
after  a  long  and  obstinate  battle,  defeated  him,  and  compelled  the 
Prussian  army  to  retire  northward  toward  Wavre.  On  the  same» 
day.  Marshal  Nej^  with  a  large  part  of  the  French  army,  attacked  the 
EnglLsh  troops  at  Quatre  Bras,  and  a  very  severe  engagement  took 
place,  in  which  Ney  failed  in  defeating  the  British,  but  succeeded 
in  })reventing  their  sending  any  help  to  Blucher,  M'ho  was  being 
beaten  by  the  emperor  at  Ligny.  On  the  news  of  Blucher's  defeat 
at  Ligny  reaching  Wellington,  he  foresaw  that  the  emperor's  army 
would  now  be  directed  upon  him,  and  he  accordingly  retreated  in 
order  to  restore  his  communications  with  his  ally,  which  would 
have  been  dislocated  by  the  Prussians  falling  back  from  Ligny  to 
Wavre  if  the  English  had  remained  in  advance  at  Quatre  Bras. 
During  the  17th,  therefore,  Wellington  retreated,  being  pursued, 
but  little  molested  by  the  main  French  army,  over  aboiit  half  the 
space  between  Quatre  Bras  and  Brussels.  This  brought  him  again 
parallel,  on  a  line  running  from  west  to  east,  with  Blucher,  who 
was  at  Wavre.  Having  ascertained  that  the  Prussian  army,  though 
beaten  on  the  16th,  was  not  broken,  and  having  received  a  promise 
from  its  general  to  march  to  his  assistance,  Wellington  determined 
to  halt,  and  to  give  battle  to  the  French  emi:)eror  in  the  position, 
which,  from  a  village  in  its  neighborhood,  has  received  the  ever- 
memorable  name  of  the  field  of  Wateeloo. 

Sir  Walter  Scott,  in  his  "Life  of  Napoleon,"  remarks  of  Water- 
loo that  "the  scene  of  this  celebrated  action  must  be  familiar  to 
most  readers  either  from  description  or  recollection."  The  nar- 
ratives of  Sir  Walter  himself,  of  Alison,  Gleig,  Siborne,  and  others, 
must  Lave  made  the  events  of  tbe  battle  almost  equally  well 
kno'ft'n.    I  might  perhaps,  content  myself  with  referring  to  their 


286  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

pagef5,  and  avoid  the  difficult  task  of  dealing  with  a  subject  which 
bas  already  been  discussed  so  copiously,  so  clearly,  and  so  elo- 
quently by  others.  In  particular,  the  description  by  Captain 
Siborne  of  the  Waterloo  campaign  is  so  full  and  so  minute,  so 
scrupulously  accurate,  and,  at  the  same  time,  so  spirited  and 
graphic  that  it  will  long  defy  the  competition  of  far  abler  pens 
than  mine.  I  shall  only  aim  at  giving  a  general  idea  of  the  main 
features  of  this  great  event,  of  this  discrowning  and  crowning 
victory. 

When,  after  a  very  hard-fought  and  a  long-doubtful  day,  Napo- 
leon had  succeeded  in  driving  back  the  Prussian  army  from  Ligny, 
and  had  resolved  on  marching  himself  to  assail  the  English,  he 
Bent,  on  the  17th,  Marshal  Grouchy  with  30,000  men  to  pursue  the 
defeated  Prussians,  and  to  prevent  their  marching  to  aid  the  Duke 
of  Wellington.  Great  recriminations  passed  afterward  between 
the  marshal  and  the  emperor  as  to  how  this  duty  was  attempted  to 
be  performed,  and  the  reasons  why  Grouchy  failed  on  the  18th  to 
arrest  the  lateral  movement  of  the  Prussian  troops  from  Wavre 
toward  Waterloo.  It  may  be  sufficient  to  remark  here  that  Grouchy 
was  not  sent  in  pursuit  of  Blucher  till  late  on  the  17th,  and  that 
the  force  given  to  nim  was  insufficient  to  make  head  against  the 
whole  Prussian  army  ;  for  Blucher's  men,  though  they  were  beaten 
"back,  and  suiiered  severe  loss  at  Ligny,  were  neither  routed  nor 
disheartened  ;  and  they  were  joined  at  Wavre  by  a  large  division 
of  their  comrades  under  General  Bulow,  who  had  taken  no  part  in 
the  battle  of  the  16th,  and  who  were  fresh  for  the  march  to  Waterloo 
against  the  French  on  the  18th.  But  the  failure  of  Grouchy  was 
in  truth  mainly  owing  to  the  indomitable  heroism  of  Blucher  him- 
self, who,  though  severely  injured  in  the  battle  at  Ligny,  was  as 
energetic  and  active  as  ever  in  bringing  his  men  into  action  again, 
and  who  had  the  resolution  to  expose  a  part  of  his  army,  under 
Thielman,  to  be  overwhelmed  by  Grouchy  at  Wavre  on  the  18th, 
while  he  urged  the  march  of  the  mass  of  his  troops  upon  Waterloo. 
"It  is  not  at  Wavre,  but  at  Waterloo,"  said  the  old  field-marshal, 
"that  the  campaign  is  to  be  decided;"  and  he  risked  a  detach- 
ment, and  won  the  campaign  accordingly.  Wellington  and  Blucher 
trusted  each  other  as  cordially,  and  co-operated  as  zealously,  as 
former!/  had  been  the  case  with  Marlborough  and  Eugene.  It 
was  in  full  reliance  on  Blucher's  promise  to  join  him  that  the  duke 
Btood  his  ground  and  fought  at  Waterloo ;  and  those  who  have 
ventured  to  impugn  the  duke's  capacity  as  a  general  ought  to  have 
had  common  sense  enough  to  perceive  that  to  charge  the  duke 
with  having  won  the  battle  of  Waterloo  by  the  help  of  the  Prussians 
is  really  to  say  that  he  won  it  by  the  very  means  on  which  he  re- 
lied, and  without  the  expectation  of  which  the  battle  would  not  have 
been  fought. 

Napoleon  himself  has  found  fault  with  Wellington*  for  not  having 


*  see  Montholon's  ' '  Memoirs,"  vol.  Iv.  p.  44. 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO.  287 

retreated  beyond  "Waterloo.  The  short  answer  may  be,  that  the 
duke  had  reason  to  expect  that  his  army  could  singly  resist  the 
French  at  Waterloo  iintil  the  Prussians  came  up,  and  that,  on  the 
Prussians  joining,  there  would  be  a  sufficient  force,  united  under 
liimself  and  Blucher,  for  completely  overwhelming  the  enemy. 
And  while  Napoleon  thus  censures  his  great  adversary,  he  invol- 
untarily bears  the  highest  possible  testimony  to  the  military  char- 
acter of  the  English,  and  proves  decisively  of  what  paramount 
importance  was  the  battle  to  which  he  challenged  his  fearless 
opponent.  Napoleon  asks,  "  If  the  English  army  had  been  beaten  a\ 
Waterloo,  what  would  have  been  the  use  of  those  numerous  bodies  oj 
troops,  of  Prussiaiis,  Austrians,  Germans,  and  Spaniards,  which  wen 
advancing  by  forced  marches  to  the  Rhine,  the  Alps,  and  the  Pyrenees  ?"" 

The  strength  of  the  army  under  the  Duke  of  Wellington  at  Water- 
loo was  49,608  infantry,  12,402  cavalrj',  and  5,645  artillerymen,  with 
156guns.t  But  of  this  total  of  67,055  men,  scarcely  24,000  were 
British,  a  circumstance  of  very  serious  importance  if  Napoleon's 
own  estimate  of  the  relative  value  of  troops  of  different  nations  is 
to  be  taken.  In  the  emperor's  own  words,  speaking  of  this  cam- 
paign, "A  French  soldier  would  not  be  equal  to  more  than  one 
English  soldier,  but  he  would  not  be  afraid  to  meet  two  Dutchmen, 
Prussians,  or  soldiers  of  the  Confederation,  "t  There  were  about 
6,000  men  of  the  old  German  Legion  with  the  duke:  these  were 
veteran  troops,  and  of  excellent  quality.  But  the  rest  of  the  army 
was  m;.de  up  of  Hanoverians,  Brunswickers,  Nassauers,  Dutch, 
and  Belgians,  many  of  whom  were  tried  soldiers,  and  fought  well, 
but  many  had  been  lately  levied,  and  not  a  few  were  justly  sus- 
pected of  a  strong  wish  to  fight  under  the  French  eagles  rather 
than  against  them. 

Napoleon's  army  at  Waterloo  consisted  of  48,950  infantry,  15,765 
cavalry,  7,232  artillerymen,  being  a  total  of  71,947  men  and  246 
guns.§  They  were  the  elite  of  the  national  forces  of  France  ;  and 
of  all  the  numerous  gallant  armies  which  that  martial  land  has 
poured  forth,  never  was  there  one  braver,  or  better  disciplined,  or 
better  led,  than  the  host  that  took  mp  its  position  at  Waterloo  on 
the  morning  of  the  18th  of  June,  1815. 

Perhaps  those  who  have  not  seen  the  field  of  battle  at  Waterloo, 
or  the  admirable  model  of  the  ground  and  of  the  conflicting  armies 
which  was  executed  by  Captain  Siborne,  may  gain  a  generally 
accurate  idea  of  the  localities  by  picturing  to  themselves  a  valley 
between  two  and  three  miles  long,  of  various  breadths  at  dififerent 
points,  but  generally  not  exceeding  half  a  mile.  On  each  side  of 
the  valley  there  is  a  winding  chain  of  low  hills,  running  somewhat 
parallel  with  each  other.  The  declivity  from  each  of  these  ranges 
of  hills  to  the  intervening  valley  is  gentle  but  not  uniform,  the 

•  Montholon's  "Memoirs,''  vol.  Iv.,  p.  44.  t  Slbome,  vol.  i.,  p.  .3T6 

t  Montholon's  "  Memoirs,"  vol.  Iv.,  p.  41.  5  See  blbome,  «( wpra. 


288  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

Tindnlations  of  the  ground  being  frequent  and  considerable.  The 
English  army  -was  posted  on  the  northern,  and  the  French  army 
occupied  the  southern  ric]ge.  The  artillery  of  each  side  thundered 
at  the  other  from  their  respective  heights  throughout  the  day,  and 
the  charge  ;  oi  hoise  and  fooi.  were  made  across  the  valley  that  has 
been  described.  The  village  of  Mont  St.  Jean  is  situate  a  little 
behind  the  center  of  the  northern  chain  of  hills,  and  the  village  of 
La  Belle  Alliance  is  close  behind  the  center  of  the  southern  ridge. 
The  high  road  from  Charlerio  to  Brussels  runs  through  both  these 
villages,  and  bisects,  therefore,  both  the  English  and  the  French 
positions.  The  line  of  this  road  was  the  line  of  Napoleon's  in- 
tended advance  on  Brussels. 

There  are  some  other  local  particulars  connected  with  the  situa- 
tion of  each  army  which  it  is  necessary  to  bear  in  mind.  The 
strength  of  the  British  ijosition  did  not  consist  merely  in  the  occu- 
pation of  a  ridge  of  high  groimd.  A  village  and  ravine,  called 
Merk  Braine,  on  the  Duke  of  Wellington's  extreme  right,  secured 
him  from  his  flank  being  turned  on  that  side  ;  and  on  his  extreme 
left,  two  little  hamlets,  called  La  Haye  and  Papillote,  gave  a  simi- 
lar thoTigh  a  slighter  protection.  It  was,  however,  less  necessary 
to  provide  for  this  extremity  of  the  position,  as  it  was  on  this  (the 
eastern)  side  that  the  Prussians  were  coming  up.  Behind  the 
whole  British  position  is  the  great  and  extensive  forest  of  Soignies. 
As  no  attempt  was  made  by  the  French  to  turn  either  of  the 
English  flanks,  and  the  battle  was  a  day  of  straightforward  fight- 
ing, it  is  chiefly  important  to  see  what  posts  there  were  in  front  of 
the  British  line  of  hills  of  which  advantage  could  be  taken  either 
to  repel  or  facilitate  an  attack  ;  and  it  will  be  seen  that  there  were 
two,  and  ihat  each  was  of  very  great  importance  in  the  action.  In 
front  of  the  British  right,  that  is  to  say,  on  the  northern  slope  of 
the  valley  toward  its  western  end,  there  stood  an  old-fashioned 
Flemish  farm-house  called  Goumont  or  Hougoumont,  with  out- 
buildings and  a  garden,  and  with  a  copse  of  beech  trees  of  about 
two  acres  in  extent  round  it.  This  was  strongly  garrisoned  by  the 
allied  troops  ;  and  while  it  was  in  their  possession,  it  was  difficult 
for  the  enemj'  to  press  on  and  force  the  British  right  wing.  On 
the  other  hand,  if  the  enemy  could  occupy  it,  it  would  be  difficult 
for  that  wing  to  keep  its  ground  on  the  heights,  with  a  strong  post 
held  adversely  in  its  immediate  front,  being  one  that  would  give 
much  shelter  to  the  enemy's  marksmen,  and  great  facilities  for  the 
sudden  concentration  of  attacking  columns.  Almost  immediately 
in  front  of  the  British  center,  and  not  so  far  down  the  slope  as 
Hougoumont,  there  was  another  farm-house,  of  a  smaller  size, 
called  La  Haye  Sainte,*  which  was  also  held  by  the  British  troops, 

*  Not  to  toe  confounded  with  the  hamlet  of  La  Have,  at  the  extreme  left 
of  the  British  Une. 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO.  289 

f»nd  the  occupation  of  which  was  found  tabe  of  -vcij  serious  con 
sequence. 

With  respect  to  the  French  position,  the  principal  feature  to  be 
noticed  is  the  village  of  Planchenoit,  which  lay  a  little  in  the  rear 
of  their  right  (i.e.,  on  the  eastern  side),  and  which  proved  to  be  of 
great  importance  in  aiding  them  to  check  the  advance  of  the  Pru-s- 
sians. 

As  has  been  already  mentioned,  the  Prussians,  on  the  morning 
of  the  18th,  were  at  Wavre,  about  twelve  miles  to  the  east  of  the 
field  of  battle  at  Waterloo.  The  junction  of  Bulow's  division  hai 
more  than  made  up  for  the  loss  sustained  at  Ligny  ;  and  leaving 
Thielman,  with  about  17,000  men,  to  hold  his  ground  as  he  best 
could  against  the  attack  which  Grouchy  was  about  to  make  on 
Wavre,  Bulow  and  Blucher  moved  with  the  rest  of  the  Prussians 
upon  Waterloo.  It  was  calculated  that  they  would  be  there  by 
three  o'clock  ;  but  the  extremely  difficult  nature  of  the  ground 
which  they  had  to  traverse,  rendered  worse  by  the  torrents  of  rain 
that  had  just  fallen,  delayed  them  long  on  their  twelve  miles' 
march. 

The  night  of  the  17th  was  wet  and  stormy  ;  and  when  the  dawn 
of  the  memorable  18th  of  June  broke,  the  rain  was  still  descending 
heavily.  The  French  and  British  armies  rose  from  their  dreary 
bivouacs  and  began  to  form,  each  on  the  high  ground  which  it 
occupied.  Toward  nine  the  weather  grew  clearer,  and  each  army 
was  able  to  watch  the  postion  and  arrangements  of  the  other  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  valley. 

The  Duke  of  Wellington  drew  up  his  infantry  in  two  lines,  the 
second  line  being  composed  principally  of  Dutch  and  Belgian 
troops,  whose  fidelity  was  doubtful,  and  of  those  regiments  of  other 
nations  which  had  suffered  most  severely  at  Qiiatre  Bras  on  the 
16th.  This  second  line  was  posted  on  the  northern  declivity  of 
the  hills,  so  as  to  be  sheltered  from  the  French  cannonade.  The 
cavalry  was  stationed  at  intei-vals  along  the  line  in  the  rear,  the 
largest  force  of  horse  being  collected  on  the  left  of  the  center,  to 
the  east  of  the  Charleroi  road.  On  the  opposite  heights  the  FrencK 
army  was  drawn  up  in  two  general  lines,  with  the  entire  force  of 
the  Imperial  Guards,  cavalry  as  well  as  infantry,  in  rear  of  the 
center,  as  a  reserve.  English  militai-y  critics  have  highly  eiilogizcd 
the  admirable  arrangement  which  Napoleon  made  of  his  forces  of 
each  arm,  so  as  to  give  him  the  most  ample  means  of  sustaining, 
by  an  immediate  and  sufiicient  support,  any  attack,  from  whatever 
point  he  might  direct  it,  and  of  drawing  promptly  together  a 
strong  force,  to  resist  any  attack  that  might  be  made  on  himself  in 
any  part  of  the  field.*  When  his  troops  were  all  arrayed,  he  rode 
along  the  lines,  receiving  every  where  the  most  enthusiastic  cheers 
from  his  men,  of  whose  entire  devotion  to  him  his  assurance  was 

•  Sllwme,  vol.  1.,  p.  3T6. 


290  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

now  doubly  sure.  On  the  southern  side  of  the  valley  the  duke'3 
army  was  also  arrayed,  and  ready  to  meet  the  menaced  attack. 

"The  two  armies  were  now  fairly  in  presence  of  each  other,  and 
their  mutual  observation  was  governed  by  the  most  intense  inter- 
est and  the  most  scrutinizing  anxiety.  In  a  still  greater  degree 
did  these  feelings  actuate  their  commanders,  while  watching  each 
other's  preparatory  movements,  and  minutely  scanning  the  surface 
of  the  arena  on  which  tactical  skill,  habitual  prowess,  physical 
strength,  and  moral  courage  were  to  decide,  not  alone  their  own, 
but,  in  all  probability,  the  fate  of  Europe.  Apart  from  national 
interests  and  considerations,  and  viewed  solely  in  connection  with 
the  opposite  characters  of  the  two  illustrious  chiefs,  the  approach- 
ing contest  was  contemplated  with  anxious  solicitude  by  the  whole 
military  world.  Need  this  create  surjirise  when  we  reflect  that 
the  struggle  was  one  for  mastery  between  the  far-famed  conqueror 
of  Italy  and  the  victorious  liberator  of  the  Peninsula  ;  between  the 
triumphant  vanquisher  of  Eastern  Europe,  and  the  bold  and  suc- 
cessful invader  of  the  south  of  France  !  Fever  was  the  issue  of  a 
single  battle  looked  forward  to  as  involving  consequences  of  such 
vast  importance,  of  such  universal  influence."* 

It  was  approaching  noon  before  the  action  commenced.  Napo- 
leon, in  his  memoirs,  gives  as  the  reason  for  this  delay,  the  miry 
state  of  the  gi-ound  through  the  heavy  rains  of  the  preceding  night 
and  day,  which  rendered  it  impossible  for  cavalry  or  artillery  to 
maneuver  on  it  till  a  few  hours  of  dry  weather  had  given  it  its 
natural  consistency.  It  has  been  supposed,  also,  that  he  trusted 
to  the  effect  which  the  sight  of  the  imposing  array  of  his  own  forces 
was  likely  to  produce  on  the  part  of  the  allied  army.  The  Belgian 
regiments  had  been  tamjjered  with  ;  'cand  Napoleon  had  well  found- 
ed hopes  of  seeing  them  quit  the  Duke  of  Wellington  in  a  body, 
and  range  themselves  under  his  own  eagles.  The  duke,  however, 
who  knew  and  did  not  trust  them,  had  guarded  against  the  risk 
of  this  by  breaking  up  the  corps  of  Belgians,  and  distributing  them 
in  separate  regiments  among  ti-oops  on  whom  he  could  rely.f 

At  last,  at  about  half  past  eleven  o'clock.  Napoleon  began  the 
battle  by  directing  a  powerful  force  from  his  left  wing  under  his 
brother.  Prince  Jerome,  to  attack  Hougoumont.  Column  after 
column  of  the  French  now  descended  from  the  west  of  the  south- 
ern heights,  and  assailed  that  post  with  fiery  valor,  which  was 
encountered  with  the  most  determined  bravery.  The  French  won 
the  copse  round  the  house,  but  a  party  of  the  British  Guards  held 
the  house  itself  throughout  the  day.  Amid  shell  and  shot,  and  the 
blazing  fragments  of  part  of  the  buildings,  this  obstinate  contest 
was  continued.  But  still  the  English  held  Hougoumont,  though 
the  French  occasionally  moved  forward  in  such  numbers  as  enabled 
them  to  surround  and  mask  this  post  with  jjart  of  their  troops  from 

*  SJborae,  vol.  i..  p.  377.  t  Ibid,  p.  373. 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO.  291 

their  left  wing,  while  others  pressed  onward  up  the  slope,  and  as- 
sailed the  British  right. 

The  cannonade,  which  commenced  at  first  between  the  British 
right  and  the  French  left,  in  consequence  of  the  attack  on  Hou- 
goumont,  soon  became  general  along  both  lines  ;  and  about  one 
o'clock  Napoleon  directed  a  grand  attack  to  be  made  under  Marshal 
Ney  upon  the  center  and  left  wing  of  the  allied  army.  For  this 
purpose  four  columns  of  infantry,  amounting  to  about  18,000  men, 
were  collected,  supported  by  a  strong  division  of  cavalry  under  the 
celebrated  Kellerman,  and  seventy-four  guns  were  brought  forward 
ready  to  be  posted  on  the  right  of  a  little  undulation  of  the  ground 
in  the  interval  between  the  two  main  ranges  of  heights,  so  as  to 
bring  their  fire  to  bear  on  the  duke's  line  at  a  range  of  about  seven 
hundred  yards.  By  the  combined  assault  of  these  formidable 
forces,  led  on  by  Ney,  "the  bravest  of  the  brave,"  Napoleon  hoped 
to  force  the  left  center  of  the  British  position,  to  take  La  Haye 
Sainte,  and  then,  pressing  forward,  to  occupy  also  the  farm  of  Mont 
St.  Jean .  He  then  could  cut  the  mass  of  Wellington's  troops  off  from 
their  line  of  retreat  upon  Brussels,  and  from  their  own  left,  and  also 
completely  sever  them  from  any  Prussian  troops  that  might  be 
approaching. 

The  columns  destined  for  this  great  and  decisive  operation  de- 
scended majestically  from  the  French  range  of  hills,  and  gained 
the  ridge  of  the  intervening  eminence,  on  which  the  batteries  that 
supported  them  were  now  ranged.  As  the  columns  descended 
again  from  the  eminence,  the  seventy -four  guns  opened  over  their 
heads  with  terrible  effect  upon  the  troops  of  the  allies  that  were 
stationed  on  the  heights  to  the  left  of  the  Charleroi  road.  One  of 
the  French  columns  kept  to  the  east,  and  attacked  the  extreme  left 
of  the  allies;  the  other  three  continued  to  move  rapidly  forward 
upon  the  left  center  of  the  allied  position.  The  front  line  of  the 
allies  here  was  composed  of  Blyant's  brigade  of  Dutch  and  Belgi- 
ans. As  the  French  columns  moved  up  the  southward  slope  of  the 
height  on  which  the  Dutch  and  Belgians  stood,  and  the  skirmishers 
in  advance  began  to  open  their  fire,  Blyant's  entire  brigade  turned 
and  fled  in  disgraceful  and  disorderly  panic;  but  there  were  men 
more  worthy  of  the  name  behind. 

The  second  line  of  allies  here  consisted  of  two  brigades  of  Engx 
lish  infantry,  which  had  suffered  severely  at  Quatre  Bras.  But  they 
were  under  Pincton,  and  not  even  Ney  himself  surpassed  in  reso- 
lute bravery  that  stern  and  fiery  spirit.  Pincton  brought  his  two 
brigades  forward,  side  by  side,  in  a  thin  two-deep  line.  Thus 
joined  together,  they  were  not  3,000  strong.  With  these  Pincton 
had  to  make  head  against  the  three  victorious  French  columns, 
upwards  of  four  times  that  strength,  and  who,  encouraged  by  the 
easy  route  of  the  Dutch  and  Belgians,  now  came  confidently  over 
the  ridge  of  the  hill.  The  British  infantry  stood  firm ;  and  as  the 
French  halt«d  and  began  to  deploy  into  line;  Pinctou  seized 


292  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

the  critical  moment;  a  close  and  deadly  volley  was  thrown  in  upon 
them,  and  then  with  a  herce  hurrah  the  British  dashed  in  with  the 
bayonet.  The  French  reeled  back  iu  confusion;  and  as  they  stag- 
gered down  the  hill,  a  brigade  of  the  English  cavalry  rodo  in  on 
them,  cutting  them  down  by  whole  battalions,  and  taking  2,000  pris- 
oners. The  British  cavalry  galloped  foi-ward  and  sabred  the 
|artillery-men  of  Ney's  seventy-four  advanced  guns  ;  and  then  cut- 
ting the  traces  and  the  throats  of  the  horses,  rendering  these  guns 
totally  useless  to  the  French  throughout  the  remainder  of  the  day. 
In  the  excitement  of  success,  the  English  cavalry  continued  to  press 
on,  but  were  charged  in  their  turn,  and  driven  back  with  severe 
loss  by  Milhaud's  cuirassiers. 

This  great  attack  (in  repelling  which  the  brave  Picton  had  fallen) 
had  now  completely  failed  ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  a  powerful  body 
of  French  cuirassiers,  who  were  advancing  along  the  right  of  the 
Charleroi  road,  and  had  been  fairly  beaten  after  a  close  hand-to- 
hand  fight  by  the  heavy  cavalry  of  the  English  household  brigade. 
Hougoumont  was  still  being  assailed,  and  was  successfully  resist- 
ing. 

Troops  were  now  beginning  to  appear  at  the  edge  of  the  horison 
on  Napoleon's  right,  which  he  too  well  knew  to  be  Prussian, 
though  he  endeavored  to  pursuade  his  followers  that  they  were 
Grouchy's  men  coming  to  aid  them.  It  was  now  about  half  past 
three  o'clock  ;  and  though  Wellington's  army  had  suffered  severely 
by  the  unremitting  cannonade  and  in  the  late  despei'ate  encoun- 
ter, no  part  of  the  British  jDosition  had  been  forced.  Napoleon 
next  determined  to  try  what  effect  he  could  produce  on  the 
British  center  and  right  by  charges  of  his  splendid  cavalry,  brought 
on  in  such  force  that  the  duke's  cavalry  could  not  check  them. 
Fresh  troops  were  at  the  same  time  sent  to  assail  La  Haye  Sainte 
and  Hougoumont,  the  possession  of  these  posts  being  the  emperor's 
unceasing  object.  Squadron  after  squadron  of  the  French  cuiras- 
siers accordingly  ascended  the  slopes  on  the  duke's  right,  and  rode 
forward  with  dauntless  courage  against  the  batteries  of  the  British 
artillery  on  that  part  of  the  field.  The  artillery-men  were  driven 
from  their  guns,  and  the  cuirassiers  cheered  loudly  at  their  sup- 
posed triumph.  But  the  duke  had  formed  his  infantry  in  squares, 
and  the  cuirassiers  charged  in  vain  against  the  impenetrable 
hedges  of  bayonets,  while  the  fire  from  the  inner  ranks  of  the  squares 
told  with  terrible  effect  on  their  own  squadrons.  Time  after  time 
they  rode  forward  with  invariably  the  same  result  ;  and  as  they 
receded  from  each  attack,  the  British  artillery-men  rushed  forward 
.rom  the  center  of  the  squares,  where  they  had  taken  refuge,  and 
plied  their  guns  on  the  retiring  horsemen.  Nearly  the  whole  of 
Napoleon's  magnificent  body  of  heavy  cavalry  was  destroyed  in 
these  fruitless  attempts  upon  the  British  right.  But  in  another 
part  of  the  field  fortune  fevored  him  for  a  time.  Donzelot's  in- 
fantry took  La  Haye  Sainte  between  six  and  seven  o'clock,  and  the 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO.  293 

means  were  now  given  for  organizing  another  formidable  attack 
on  the  center  of  the  allies. 

There  was  no  time  to  be  lost:  Bhicher  and  Biilow  were  begin- 
ning to  press  upon  the  French  right;  as  early  as  five  o'clock, 
Napoleon  had  been  obliged  to  detach  Lobaii's  infantry  and  Do- 
mont's  horse  to  check  these  new  enemies.  This  was  done  for  a 
time;  but,  as  large  numbers  of  the  Prussians  came  on  the  field, 
they  turned  Lobau's  left,  and  sent  a  strong  force  to  seize  the  vil- 
lage of  Planchenoit,  which,  it  will  be  remembered,  lay  in  the  rear 
of  the  French  right.  NajDoleon  was  now  obliged  to  send  his 
Young  Guard  to  occupy  that  village,  which  was  accordingly  held 
by  them  with  great  gallantry  against  the  reiterated  assaults  of  the 
Prussian  left  under  Bulow.  But  the  force  remaining  under  Nax^o- 
leon  was  now  numerically  inferior  to  that  under  the  Duke  of 
Wellington,  which  he  had  been  assailing  throughout  the  day, 
without  gaining  any  other  advantage  than  the  capture  of  La  Haye 
Sainte.  It  is  true  that,  owing  to  the  gross  misconduct  of  the 
greater  part  of  the  Dutch  and  Belgian  troops,  the  duke  was  obliged 
to  rely  exclusively  on  his  English  and  German  soldiers,  and  the 
ranks  of  these  had  been  fearfully  thinned ;  but  the  survivors 
stood  their  ground  heroically,  and  still  opposed  a  resolute  front 
to  every  forward  movement  of  their  enemies.  Napoleon  had  then 
the  means  of  efi"ecting  a  retreat.  His  Old  Guard  had  yet  taken  no 
part  in  the  action.  Under  cover  of  it,  he  might  have  withdrawn 
his  shattered  forces  and  retired  upon  the  French  frontier.  But 
this  would  only  have  given  the  English  and  Prussians  the  oppor- 
tunity of  completing  their  junction;  and  he  knew  that  otherarmies 
were  fast  coming  up  to  aid  them  in  a  march  upon  Paris,  if  he 
should  succeed  in  avoiding  an  encounter  with  them,  and  retreat- 
ing upon  the  capital.  A  victory  at  Waterloo  was  his  only  alterna- 
tive from  utter  ruin,  and  he  determined  to  employ  his  guard  in  one 
bold  stroke  more  to  make  that  victory  his  own. 

Between  seven  and  eight  o'clock  the  infantry  of  the  Old  Guard 
was  formed  into  two  columns,  on  the  declivity  near  La  Belle 
Alliance.  Ney  was  placed  at  their  head.  Napoleon  himself  rode 
forward  to  a  spot  by  which  his  veterans  were  to  pass  ;  and  as  they 
approached  he  raised  his  arm,  and  pointed  to  the  position  of  the 
allies,  as  if  to  tell  them  that  their  path  lay  there.  Th.-^y  answered 
with  loud  cries  of  "  Vive  I'Empereur !  "  and  descended  the  hill 
from  their  own  side  into  that  "  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death," 
while  their  batteries  thundered  with  redoubled  vigor  over  their 
heads  upon  the  British  line.  The  line  of  march  of  the  columns  of 
the  Guard  was  directed  between  Hougoumont  and  La  Haye 
Sainte,  against  the  British  right  center;  and  at  the  same  time, 
Donzelot  and  the  French,  who  had  possession  of  La  Haye  Sainte, 
commenced  a  fierce  attack  upon  the  British  center,  a  little  more 
to  its  left.  This  part  of  the  battle  has  drawn  less  attention  than 
the  celebrated  attack  of  the  Old  Guard;  but  it  formed  the  most 


29i  DECISIVE  BATTLES. 

perilous  crisis  for  the  allied  army;  and  if  the  Youns  Guard  had 
been  there  to  support  Donzelot,  instead  of  being  engaged  with  the 
Prussians  at  Planchenoit,  the  consequences  to  the  allies  in  that 
part  of  the  field  must  have  been  most  serious.  The  French  tirail- 
leurs, who  were  posted  in  clouds  in  La  Haye  Sainte,  and  the  shel- 
tered spots  near  it,  completely  disabled  the  artillery-men  of  the 
English  batteries  near  them;  and,  taking  advantage  of  the  crippled 
state  of  the  English  guns,  the  French  brought  some  field-pieces  up 
to  La  Haye  Sainte,  and  commenced  firing  grape  from  them  on  the 
infantry  of  the  allies,  at  a  distance  of  not  more  than  a  hundred 
paces.  The  allied  infantry  here  consisted  of  some  German  bri- 
gades, who  were  formed  in  squares,  at  it  was  believed  that  Don- 
zelot had  cavalry  ready  behind  La  Haye  Sainte  to  charge  them 
with,  if  they  left  that  order  of  formation.  In  this  state  the  Ger- 
mans remained  for  some  time  with  heroic  fortitude,  though  the 
grape-shot  was  tearing  ga^js  in  their  ranks,  and  the  side  of  one 
square  was  literally  blown  away  by  one  tremendous  volley  which 
the  French  gunners  poured  into  it.  The  Prince  of  Orange  in 
vain  endeavored  to  lead  some  Nassau  troops  to  their  aid.  The 
Nassauers  would  not  or  could  not  face  the  French;  and  some 
battalions  of  Brunswickers,  whom  the  Duke  of  Wellington  had  or- 
dered up  as  a  re-enforcement,  at  first  fell  back,  until  the  duke  in 
person  rallied  them  and  led  them  on.  The  duke  then  galloped 
off  to  the  right  to  head  his  men  who  were  exposed  to  the  attack 
of  the  Imperial  Guard.  He  had  saved  one  part  of  his  center  from 
being  routed;  but  the  French  had  gained  ground  here,  and  the 
pressure  on  the  allied  line  was  severe,  until  it  was  relieved  by  the 
decisive  success  which  the  British  in  the  right  center  achieved 
over  the  columns  of  the  Guard. 

The  British  troops  on  the  crest  of  that  part  of  the  position, 
which  the  first  column  of  Napoleon's  Guards  assailed,  were  Mait- 
land's  brigade  of  British  Guards,  having  Adam's  brigade  on  their 
right.  Maitland's  men  were  lying  down,  in  order  to  avoid,  as  far 
as  possible,  the  destructive  effect  of  the  French  artillery,  which 
kept  up  an  unremitting  fire  from  the  opposite  heights,  until  the 
first  column  of  the  Imperial  Guard  had  advanced  so  far  up  the 
slope  toward  the  British  position  that  any  farther  firing  of  the 
French  artillery-men  would  endanger  their  own  comrades.  Mean- 
while, the  British  guns  were  not  idle;  but  shot  and  shell  plowed 
fast  through  the  ranks  of  the  stately  array  of  veterans  that  still 
moved  imposingly  on.  Several  of  the  French  superior  officers 
were  at  its  head.  Ney's  horse  was  shot  under  him,  but  he  still 
led  the  way  on  foot,  sword  in  hand.  The  front  of  the  massy 
column  now  was  on  the  ridge  of  the  hill.  To  their  surprise,  they 
saw  no  troops  before  them.  All  they  could  discern  through  the 
smoke  was  a  small  band  of  mounted  ofiicers.  One  of  them  was 
the  duke  himself.  The  French  advanced  to  about  fifty  yards 
from  where  the  British  Guards  were  lying  down,  when  the  voice 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO.  295 

of  one  of  the  band  of  British  officers  was  heard  calling,  as  if  to  the 
ground  before  him,  "  Up,  Guards,  and  at  them  !  "  It  was  the  duke 
who  gave  the  order;  and  at  the  words,  as  if  by  magic,  up  started 
before  them  a  line  of  the  British  Guards  four  deej),  and  in  the 
most  compact  and  perfect  order.  They  poured  an  instantaneous 
volley  upon  the  head  of  the  French  column,  by  which  no  less  than 
three  hundred  of  those  chosen  veterans  are  said  to  have  fallen. 
The  French  officers  rushed  forward,  and,  conspicuous  in  front  of 
their  men,  attempted  to  deploy  them  info  a  more  extended  lino, 
so  as  to  enable  them  to  reply  with  effect  to  the  British  lire.  But 
Maitland's  brigade  kept  showering  in  volley  after  volley  with 
deadly  rapidity.  The  decimated  column  grew  disordered  in  its 
vain  efforts  to  expand  itself  into  more  efficient  formation.  The 
right  word  was  given  at  the  right  moment  to  the  British  for  the 
bayonet-charge,  and  the  brigade  sprang  forward  with  a  loud  cheer 
against  their  dismayed  antagonists.  In  an  instant  the  compact 
mass  of  the  French  spread  out  in  a  rabble,  and  they  lied  back 
down  the  hill  pursiaed  by  Maitland's  men,  who,  however,  returned 
to  their  position  in  time  to  take  part  in  the  repulse  of  the  second 
column  of  the  Imperial  Guard. 

This  column  also  advanced  with  great  spirit  and  firmness  un- 
der the  cannonade  which  was  opened  on  it,  and  passing  by  the 
eastern  wall  of  Hougoumont,  diverged  slightly  to  the  right  as  it 
moved  up  the  slope  toward  the  British  position,  so  as  to  approach 
the  same  spot  where  the  first  column  had  surmounted  the  height 
and  been  defeated.  This  enabled  the  British  regiments  of  Adam's 
brigade  to  form  a  line  parallel  to  the  left  flank  of  the  French 
column,  so  that  while  the  front  of  this  column  of  French  Gaards 
had  to  encounter  the  cannonade  of  the  British  batteries,  and 
the  musketry  of  Maitland's  Guards,  its  left  flank  was  assailed 
with  a  destructive  fire  by  a  four-deep  body  of  British  infantry, 
extending  all  along  it.  In  such  a  position,  all  the  bravery  and 
skill  of  the  French  veterans  were  vain.  The  second  column, 
like  its  predecessor,  broke  and  fled,  taking  at  first  a  lateral  direc- 
tion along  the  front  of  the  British  line  toward  the  rear  of  La 
Haye  Sainte,  and  so  becoming  blended  with  the  divisions  of 
French  infantry,  which,  under  Donzelot,  had  been  pressing  the 
allies  so  severely  in  that  quarter.  The  sight  of  the  Old  Guard 
broken  and  in  flight  checked  the  ardor  which  Donzelot's  troops 
had  hitherto  displayed.  They,  too,  began  to  waver.  Adam's 
victorious  brigade  was  pressing  after  the  flying  Guai-d,  and  now 
cleared  away  the  assailants  of  the  allied  center.  But  the  battle 
was  not  yet  won.  Napoleon  had  still  some  battalions  in  reserve 
near  La  Belle  Alliance.  He  was  rapidly  rallying  the  remains  of 
the  first  column  of  his  Guards,  and  he  had  collected  into  one  body 
the  remnants  of  the  various  corps  of  cavalry,  which  had  suffi-rod 
so  severely  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  daj-.  The  duke  instantly 
formed  the  bold  resolution  of  now  himself  becoming  the  as.sailiDt 


296  DE  -ISIVE  BATTLES. 

and  leading  liis  staccessful  thougli  enfeebled  army  forward,  while 
the  disheartening  effect  of  the  repulse  of  the  Imperial  Guard  on 
the  French  army  was  still  strong,  and  before  Napoleon  and  Ney 
could  rally  the  beaten  veterans  themselves  for  another  and  a 
fiercer  charge.  As  the  close  approach  of  the  Prussians  now  com- 
pletely protected  the  duke's  left,  he  had  drawn  some  reserves  of 
horse  from  that  quarter,  and  he  had  a  brigade  of  Hussars  under 
Vivian  fresh  and  ready  at  hand.  Without  a  moment's  hesitation 
he  launched  these  against  the  cavalry  near  La  Belle  A.lliance.  The 
charge  was  as  successful  as  it  was  daring;  and  there  was  now  no 
hostile  cavalry  to  check  the  British  infantry  in  a  forward  movement, 
the  duke  gave  the  long  wished-for  command  for  a  general  advance 
of  the  army  along  the  whole  line  upon  the  foe.  It  was  now  past 
eight  o'clock,  and  for  nine  deadly  hours  had  the  British  and  Ger- 
man regiments  stood  iinflinching  under  the  fire  of  artillery,  the 
charge  of  cavalry,  and  every  variety  of  assault  that  the  compact  col- 
umns or  the  scattered  trialleurs  of  the  enemy's  infantry  could  inflict. 
As  they  joyously  sprang  forward  against  tlie  discomfited  masses  of 
the  French,  the  setting  sun  broke  through  the  clouds  which  had 
obscured  the  sky  during  the  greater  part  of  the  day,  and  glittered 
on  the  bayonets  of  the  allies  while  they  in  turn  poured  down  the 
valley  and  toward  the  heights  that  were  held  by  the  foe.  Almost 
the  whole  of  the  French  host  was  now  in  irretrievable  confusion. 
The  Prussian  army  was  coming  more  and  more  rapidly  forward  on 
their  right,  and  the  Young  Guard,  which  had  held  Planchenoit 
so  bravely,  was  at  last  compelled  to  give  way.  Some  regiments  of 
the  Old  Guard  in  vain  endeavored  to  form  in  squares.  They  were 
swept  away  to  the  rear;  and  then  Napoleon  himself  fled  from  the 
last  of  his  many  fields,  to  become  in  a  few  weeks  a  captive  and  an 
exile.  The  battle  was  lost  by  France  j^ast  all  recovery.  The  vic- 
torious armies  of  England  and  Prussia,  meeting  on  the  scene  of 
their  triumph,  continued  to  press  forward  and  overwhelm  every 
attempt  that  was  made  to  stem  the  tide  of  ruin.  The  British  army, 
exhausted  by  its  toils  and  suffering  during  that  dreadful  day,  did 
not  urge  the  pursuit  beyond  the  heights  which  the  enemy  had 
occupied.  Bnt  the  Prussians  di'ove  the  fugitives  before  them 
throughout  the  night.  And  of  the  magnificent  host  which  had  that 
morning  cheered  their  emperor  in  confident  expectation  of  victory, 
very  few  were  ever  assembled  again  in  arms.  Their  lo?s,  both  in 
the  field  and  in  the  pursuit,  was  immense;  and  the  greater  num- 
ber of  those  who  escaped  dispersed  as  soon  as  they  crossed  the 
frontier. 

The  army  under  the  Duke  Wellington  lost  nearly  15,000  men  in 
killed  and  wounded  on  this  terrible  day  of  battle.  The  loss  of  the 
Prussian  army  was  nearly  7,00U  more.  At  such  a  fearful  iirice  was 
the  deliverance  of  Europe  jourchased. 

On  closing  our  survey  of  this,  the  last  of  the  Decisive  Battles  of 
the  World,  it  is  pleasing   to  contrast  the  year  which  it  signalized 


BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO.  297 

■with  the  one  that  is  now  passing  over  our  heads.  We  have  not  (and 
long  may  -we  want)  the  stern  excitemeint  of  the  struggles  of  war, 
and  we  see  no  captive  Standards  of  our  European  neighbors  brought 
in  triumph  to  our  shrines.  But  we  witness  an  infinitely  prouder 
spectacle.  "VVe  see  the  banners  of  every  civilized  nation  waving 
over  the  arena  of  our  competition  with  each  other  in  the  arts  that 
minister  to  our  race's  support  and  happiness,  and  not  to  its  suffer- 
ing and  destruction. 

"  Peace  hatli  her  victories 
No  less  renowned  than  war ; " 

and  no  battle-field  ever  witnessed  a  victory  more  noble  than  that 
'which  England,  under  her  sovereign  lady  and  her  royal  prince,  is 
now  teaching  the  peoples  of  the  earth  to  achieve  over  selfish  preju- 
dice and  international  feuds,  in  the  great  cause  of  the  general 
promotion  of  industry  and  welfare  of  mankind. 


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